Harry Potter and the Man of Britannia
by DeiDeiArtistic
Summary: England, being bored of National life, sends a letter to Dumbledore to work at Hogwarts. However, having neglected both his magic community and the Ministry of Magic for so long, England finds himself bewildered by the "recent" changes. However, can he teach at Hogwarts while secretly being investigated by almost everyone around him? Who, or what, is Arthur Kirkland?
1. A Letter Sent, A Letter Given

**Harry Potter and the Man of Britannia**

**Chapter 1**

**A Letter Sent, A Letter Given**

**DeiDeiArtistic: Hello a pplz! This is my first Hetalia X Harry Potter fic, and also first crossover… So tell me how I did, 'Kay? ;J Also, it's taking place during Harry's third year and up. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or Harry Potter or any of its characters; they belong to their respective owners.**  
><strong>Claimer: I do own though own Nazure.<strong>

*****  
>WARNING:<br>This chapter  
>has<br>been  
>BETA'D<br>*****

**I**

**A**s of late, England had become quite bored. The World Meetings had become some sort of sick routine that taunts him with its foul, maddening repetition. So expected, so predictable and _so_ detestable. They'd become so dull, and of course, unproductive. With no upcoming meeting or appointment with the queen, he had "nothing" to stress about. And for once, the paperwork was doing itself — quite literally.

England had been doing a little "Spring Cleaning" when he came across his lovely old white wand with its lovely yellow charm. The wand was specially crafted by him, hawthorn, nine inches with its unicorn hair core. A wand that was only, and perfect, for him he'd say. The golden star had been placed on his wand by a beloved friend for luck.

Coming across his wand made him realize two things — one, why he had forgotten he could have been using magic to handle his workloads of paperwork and two, how much he missed his magic community.

Thus, after up and done with the cleaning and organizing of his living space, he searched for some parchment and began to scribble down a message.

_Dear Albus,_

_I hope you've been well these past years; I must apologize for being out-of-touch for quite a while. I know that time is more important to you than it is to me and it was wrong of me to put you aside for so long._

_The reason I write to you though is that I'm afraid Muggle life has been rather tedious as of late, and I find myself yearning for Hogwarts and a return to the magical community. If it is not too rude to ask, by any chance do you have an opening for a new teacher at Hogwarts? Please send an owl with your reply when you are able._

_From,_  
><em>Arthur Kirkland<em>

Satisfied with his letter, England rolled it up and tied it with an emerald, silky green ribbon. Speaking in the language of the Fae, England said out in a quite whisper, _"Nazure*, would you please send this to Dumbledore of Hogwarts?"_

Suddenly, a cyan-clad faerie appeared. She had shoulder-length black hair, gleaming purplish-red eyes and pale skin. Her wings were small, beautiful, and translucent and had marvelous black and gold markings across her wings that swirled about. However, looking at England, she gave a pout and crossed her arms and fluttered her wings once.

England looked at her, at first confused, but then chuckled. He held out his right palm to her, _"Here,"_

Nazure looked up at him and fluttered up to his hand and her feet gently landed into his palm. England brought his hand to his face and placed a kiss on top of Nazure's head. Once done with his kiss to Nazure, he moved his hand away to see Nazure's blushing facing, who was rather too embarrassed to look England in the face while her hands where behind her back as she swung them side-to-side in a bashful manner.

England chuckled, _"There. Now, did you like that?"_

Nazure only blushed and gave a small ghost of a whisper, _"Yes…But, the letter is far too big for me to carry Arthur. Would you mind, shrinking it?"_ Nazure looked at England with beady eyes.

England gave a small laugh, _"You just want me to perform magic, now don't you— you sly little fox you."_ Nazure gave a small smirk._ "But I can't see the reason to not to. I'd like to see how much I can remember with magic— even though you are very much well capable of shrinking objects, now aren't you Nazure?"_

Nazure only giggled at this. In truth, Nazure was quite the joker of the faeries, finding it quite funny when England would become baffled when he discovered that his boxers became finger mittens or his home being the size of a Lolly Locket* toy house or he himself being the size of a scone.

England placed the roll of parchment between his palms and began to push inward. Normally, doing such would crumple up the paper in odd shapes and angles. However, that was not the case, not even by the slightest. Instead, with each push, the paper became a size smaller until England's hand clapped together and at the center of his hand was a miniature roll of parchment no bigger than a paperclip.

Nazure seized the paper and flew off, thought not before quickly turning back to England to place a small kiss on his cheek. Then, smiling victoriously, she left with a trail of giggles following behind her as she disappeared in the blink of an eye. England placed a hand over his cheek before giving a small chortle.

After she had left, England left to go make brew some tea. While placing a sugar cube into his tea, he saw, or rather heard, that he had received a text from the sound of _The Star Spangled Banner_ going off. He opened up his phone to see whatever the reason America had texted him for.

**[From: Alfred F. Jones]**  
><strong>[To: Arthur Kirkland]<strong>  
><strong>Iggy! Dude, watz wrong?<strong>  
><strong>[August 30th: 6:12 PM]<strong>

England furrowed his brows. How dare America defile — _no!_ — butcher his language like that! _Watz!_ He spelt it like "_watz_"! It's is spelt "W-H-A-T-APOSTROPHE-S"! — not "W-A-T-Z"! Angrily, England started to text back.

**[From: Arthur Kirkland]**  
><strong>[To: Alfred F. Jones]<strong>  
><strong>Watz! You spelt it like watz! Alfred! It is spelt like "What's" not "watz"! And I told you thousan-<strong>  
><strong>[August 30th: 6:17 PM]<strong>

**« ds of times not to call me "Iggy" or "Dude"!**

England sent the second part of the message and it wasn't before long that he had gotten a reply.

— **Take a chill pill Iggy, I don't lik it wen ur mad. Or do I? ;) Anyways, I'll call u Iggy as long as**

— **I want bcuz ur MINE! So WHAT'S wrong? Ur acting odd now. Tell ur BF what's wrong? Myb I can help. ;3**

England grimaced and stared at the text America sent back. About a month ago or so, America made a startling announcement.

…

_England was shuffling through his notes with the G30 meeting at its end. It was a typical meeting, filled with mayhem, international economies and financial concerns. It was just tedious matters and this was a sort of job England would work until his end, a thought that did not muse him at all. But it wasn't like he had a choice in the matter. It was how the world worked now — as it always has._

_But that didn't matter because once England gathered all his things, he could just shove them in his valise and head off home to relax. Or go out. Whichever came first, it didn't matter to him. So stacking his papers, he clipped them together and stuffed them inside his valise and was up about to leave before America loudly cleared his throat to stop everybody from from their tracks._

_Germany was not impressed. "America, I told you if you had something to say, you should have said it during the meeting. You will have to wait until the next meeting to propose your idea."_

_"But this has got nothing to do with the meeting, and what I have to say has been waiting for long enough." America said as he stood up straight and tall, and held a determined look about his face._

_"Well then, what is it that you have to say?" Australia asked, turning towards America as he hung his briefcase over his shoulder._

_America was silent for a moment as if he was recollecting on his thoughts, or doing one of those "building suspense" moments just so he could rile everyone up for something stupid. If that was just the thing he was doing, England was going to wring his neck. Just thinking about it already made him want to choke America._

_"England," America said, gazing firmly at England with his lips pressed together, but there was a slight waver in America's bottom lip concluding that he was not as composed as he made himself to be. This wasn't going to be good England thought as he turned his attention towards the American nation. "England… I love you."_

_Yep, this wasn't good at all._

_"Aw! Che dolce America!"* Italy sighed as he hugged his folder at the "lovely" display._

_"Oi! You're treading on thin ice mate…" Australia warned as he took a step towards America, who in turn took a step back._

_France let out a laugh as a sly Cheshire smile appeared on his lips, a mischievous glint sparkling in his eyes. "America—! I would have never guessed that you— America— loved England. Though truthfully, if you asked me—"_

_"Shut up France! No one is asking you anything!" England growled as he decked a pencil at the French nation just before making his way towards the door. A couple of drinks sounded good right about now. But perhaps that was a little too much to ask for as somebody clasp their hand on his shoulder. And that somebody was unfortunately the Frenchman._

_"England, are you just going to leave like that? I believe our America has said something important to you." France deadpanned with a slightly irritated look about his face. Did England actually hit him with the pencil he threw? If so, he deserved a pat on the back. Nevertheless, it wasn't time to celebrate because right now he still had a monkey on his back (well two if you counted America)._

_Scowling, England turned towards America to see that the young nation had his shoulders slumped and a worried expression on his face. Sighing with his nose, England narrowed his eyes and sneered. "Nice joke." And with that, England left America with a cold shoulder._

_Making his way down the hall, England gasped when somebody seized his upper arm and forced him to turn around. It was America with a hurt look upon his face. "What… What was that? Why did you just leave?" He asked, trying to understand what just happened a moment ago. "Why do you think what I said was a joke?"_

_England scoffed. "Hmm… That is a good question. Why would I ever think a confession as random as that was a joke? Golly, how foolish of me was it to think that." England spat out sarcastically. "America, I don't know what you're up to, but cut the crap. Got it?" And again, England tried to hurry away from America._

_"Wha—? No—No—No! England! Wait! I'm not joking! I'm being serious!" America called out to catch up with England._

_"So am I!" England shouted out as picked up his speed._

_"England! I do love you! Please! Why are you doing this? Why are you making me look like a fool?" America asked, halting himself from walking into England as the English nation suddenly stopped in his tracks._

_Turning around, England wore an agitated look upon his face. "I make you look like a fool? Please America, you can already do that by yourself. I, or you, can't make anyone do anything. I didn't make you confess. You did that on your own." England said coldly. "If anyone is humiliated it is me because I never asked you to… to… To—To confess of all things!"_

_"But I—"_

_SMACK._

_"I heard you once, I don't need to hear it again." England scowled as he retracted his hand. "Know this America, whatever emotion you think you feel is _wrong_. Stop it. I don't need your love, I don't want it, and I don't love you no matter how much you 'love' me. So I shall this once and you will do your best to remember it. Don't ever tell me that you love me."_

_Staring at America with a semi-disgusted look, England turned his heel and left, smirking as he heard America shout out "Go to Hell England!"_

_"As if I could America!" England retorted back before the smirk on his lips faulted. "There's no other place I would imagine myself to be."_

…

_England was leaned against his door frame, his arms crossed along with his ankles. There was an unamused look about his face as he stared at the American before him. For America to drop by so unannounced, England felt annoyed by America's rudeness. Honestly, what would have America done if England wasn't home. At least he had the decency to use the door and not jump* into his home._

_"What do you want?" England asked. America shifted on his feet._

_"Canada said I should tell you I'm sorry."_

_"Oh, and here I thought you were going to apologize out of the goodness of your heart."_

_"N-No! No! I am sorry 'bout before, but… I just… I wasn't excepting you to do that."_

_"And what you expecting me to do? Confess as well and state that I have been madly in love with you and I would just fall into your arms and everything will be dandy? Just like that?"_

_America grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck, adverting his gaze. "Well not like that, but… You know."_

_"Well, I'm sorry to say that life doesn't work out the way you want it to be. I would know after all."_

_"England…"_

_"America, if that it all you have to say, then good day." England said, standing up straight as he grabbed the door and gave a look at America that told the American nation that he had other things to do than to just stand at his doorway._

_America shoved his hands into his pockets and stared at the ground before him, scuffing his shoes on the pebbled dirt beneath him. At England's goodbye, America nodded and raised a hand, waving sheepishly as if it was a sign of defeat. "Y-Yeah… Good day," America murmured as he turned from England and began to make his way down the trail of dirt and towards his car that lie on the dirt road surround by the fields of grass and trees. "Yeah, good day it is…"_

_Watching America's fleeing form, England noted a staleness of the air and sighed, closing the door to finish the rest of his day._

…

England grimaced at the memories and jammed at the keys to text back a reply.

— **Alfred! I'm not your BF and never will you git! And I'm not acting odd as you say. I'm just bored.**

England sent the message before having a sudden realization and sent forth another text.

— **And no you cannot "entertain" me!**

After having sent that, it wasn't long before he'd gotten a text from America.

— **Aww… Y r u bored?**

— **Because everything is just so… predictable. Ordinary. Practical. Boring.**

— **Am I predictable?**

England starred at the text for only a moment's notice.

— **Yes. **_**»***_

After having sent that message, he never got a reply back from America. At first, he thought about apologizing to America, but he wasn't sure why he'd do that. It wasn't like he cared if America was alright or not. And besides, he couldn't care less if America was hurt; the git bothered him so much to insanity as it was.

Taking a sip of his tea, he began to hear a particular scratching sound. Turning his head, he saw that a grey owl was flapping outside his window. Setting down his tea, he quickly walked over to the window, minding the coffee table at the center of the living room, and opened up the window, where the owl swooped in dropping an envelope into his hands and perched itself onto the coat-rack.

Opening up the envelope, he pulled out the letter and began to read.

_To Arthur Kirkland,_

_Good day to you too — or perhaps night, or even afternoon — whenever this letter arrives to you. Yes, you may teach at Hogwarts! A brilliant idea indeed! The student will learn so much with you around; you seem so knowledgeable of the world of magic and Muggles! Has the Muggle world been so tiring for you? Well, who could not live a life with magic? Muggles, I can never really quite understand them, they are quite odd sometimes… Though, I must say I do enjoy their lemon drops. When you drop by at Hogwarts, I'd like to speak with you about your teaching position and such._

_Sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

_P.S. The little faerie you sent here, quite the trickster she is. She shrunk my hat so small it fits my finger! But that's not all, she also shrunk Fawkes! He's currently wearing my miniature hat at this moment._

Arthur chuckled as he read the letter, a funny man that Dumbledore was. But, he was also quite eager as well. Hogwarts! He'll be teaching at Hogwarts! Oh how much he missed it. He wondered how much had changed since the last time he went to Hogwarts, or in fact, how much the wizarding community changed.

He quickly left for his room and began packing clothes, materials and anything he thought was important to take. As he was going through his closet, he found himself picking up and old, wore-down leather brown book. The gold-leaf of the printed font was faded and chipped off, but Arthur could still see, the embedded markings the printed created in the cover. However, even then, he couldn't make out the faded text. Dusting the cover off, he opened its content to find that it was a photo album. The pictures shifted from drawn portraits to monochromes to daguerreotypes and lastly to digital photos.

"Should I take this?" England thought to himself, "But I have no need for it. I mean, why would I make my luggage heavier than it needs to be?" He placed the album back into his closet and left. However he came back and grabbed the book, "W-Well, it's not like a few more weights in my luggage is that much of a burden. I mean, it's not like I have that much in it anyways… And looking at old photos is fun! It's not like I care who's in it! Aha-ha-ha…" England hesitantly laughed.

By the time he was down packing, England plopped onto his couch and rested his head on the couch cushions to take a small nap. However, before he could doze off, he was interrupted by the howling of an owl, "What the—?" England questioned before remembering the owl on his coat-rack. Then, a sudden thought occurred to him, "Blimey! I forgot I need someone to cover for me during the World Meeting! But whom to ask…" England wondered. "Cadel, since he is the only other representative I can at least trust."

England grabbed for the nearest pen and paper and began to write to his brother Cadel Kirkland, or Wales in terms of National being.

_Cadel,_

_I'm going to Hogwarts to teach. I need you to take my position as representative of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland at the World Meetings as you're the only one I can trust and you're the only one I don't dislike as much._

_-Arthur_

_P.S. If you see that little prat, kick him out and send him home!_

England called for the owl and tied the message on to the owl's leg.

_"Take this to Wales. I'm sure you know who I'm talking about."_ The owl cocked its head, as if to say "Yes", and left out the opened window.

England closed the window and headed to his bathroom to brush his teeth and whatnot. After changing into his nightgown, England tucked himself to bed, wondering about the nearby future with a smile plastered on his face.

**i**

**Nazure* — Nah-shjur-ray**

**Lolly Locket* — Like a certain famous (?) tiny plastic girl toy that starts with a "P".**

**« » and — :This is part of French punctuation-grammar rules, and although I wasn't using any sort of French, I decided to use it as a sort of format to show that that is a text and not some sort of emphasis and blah… It probably isn't necessary, but… Yeah. O3o**

_**Aw! Che dolce America!***_** — Aw! How cute America!**

**ii**

**Yes! As you can see, I got myself my very first Beta, who we will cherish and address as: hollowtearsofjoy**

**So, previous and new chapters will be beta'd by hollowtearsofjoy. Thank-you my lovely beta~!**

**EDIT: 07-06-14: I made some changes in this chapter, editing, adding, and taking out a few scenes.  
><strong>

**iii**

**Continue?**


	2. Platform 9 34 and the Hogwarts Express?

**Harry Potter and the Man of Britannia**

**Chapter 2**

**Platform Nine and Three-Quarters and the Hogwarts Express?**

**DeiDeiArtistic: Hello a pplz! Enjoy my second chapter!**

**Chapter Dedication: to chocobnyluv, my first reviewer. :3****  
><strong>**Fellow Dedications: to StargateNerd and intricate-bindings, because they're just so awesome. :J**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or Harry Potter or any of its characters; they belong to their respective owners.****  
><strong>**Claimer: I own Dexius, Cadel, and Rossi.**

**I**

**T**hat morning, on August 31 at 9:00, England woke up to the sound of his alarm going off. Resetting his clock, England began his morning stretch and strolled off to his wardrobe. Grabbing a pair of fresh undergarments, he also snatched up a white button-up blouse and crimson sweater vest and black slacks.

Heading to his bathroom, he opened the door and flicked on the lights. The room lit up and he gently, and orderly, placed his clothes on a rack and began to stripe himself. Once setting his old garments in the laundry hamper, he set off the air vents and entered the shower. Setting the water to a warm-hot temperature, England gave a slight shiver as the water hit his flesh; he began working the water into his messy blonde hair. After his hair was completely soaked with water, be began lathering his hair with shampoo.

After he started to rinse his hair, he heard a faint giggle or two. He opened his eyes and looked around but saw nothing. Thinking it was just imagination of perhaps he needed to change his alarm sound yet again, England began to rub conditioner thoroughly into his hair. However, as doing so, he heard more giggles, and for sure, a low whistle.

England turned around, looking in all direction for the tiny laughing and whistles. Then, he saw it, or rather them. Aligned on the rail of the shower curtains, faeries — nine to be exact — were smiling, laughing, waving and whistling at him. Blushing, England grabbed his bathe-sponge and used it to cover Big Ben.

_"Blimey! Bugger off you little perverts! I'm not giving you a matinée!"_ England fussed, his face turning red, but not from the heat of the water.

A faerie in scarlet-wear and bright blond hair with brown eyes gave him a catcall,_"Aw, but it is a good show, is it not sisters? We are waiting for the grand finale! We demand the grand finale!"_

The other faeries began to chant out after her, all calling out, _"Grand finale! Grand finale! Grand finale!"_

_"No, no, no! Absolutely not! All of you! Leave! I still need to finish my wash! Off you go now! Shoo!"_ England hissed, leering at the faeries, but also trying to avoid getting water in his eyes.

The faeries only laughed before one-by-one the leapt off the rail and one of the faeries grabbed his body soap and began to pour it while the other faeries began to use their magic so that bubbles and foam started to form. Soon enough, England found himself in a state of confusion as bubbles were floating everywhere, like a bubbly winter land.

"Bloody hell," England sighed,_"You faeries enjoy picking on me, don't you? Damn it, if I'm not careful, I could end up slipping… Ugh, that makes me sound so — old."_

England thought for amount before stretching out his arms in a suitable width and saying, _"Reducio."_ Before long, all the bubbles shrank to an appropriate size and England turned back at the faeries, he glared at them before saying, _"Out."_

The faeries smirked and shrugged before leaving, whispering and laughing among themselves, of one of which he heard, _"Dexius, did you see? It was so big! And it wasn't because we're so small! Hee-hee!"_England blushed at such a flattering and embarrassing comment.

After a while of so after the faeries rude interruption of his shower, England was out of the shower and drying off his body. Humming a nameless tune, England, one-by-one, began placing on his clothes and continued on his daily routine. By the time England left the bathroom, it was 10:13.

As England exited his room to his kitchen, he noticed his window had two letters on the sill. Walking over to it, he opened up the window and picked up the letters. He opened up a letter that he knew was from Cadel, as it was addressed _To: Arthur_. Opening up the letter, he began to read it.

_Arthur,_

_Oi? What the hell?  
>Couldn't you have told me a little bit, and by "a little bit" I mean by a FORTNIGHT if not a MONTHS WORTH, earlier?<br>For an owl to come here and drop off a letter telling me I have to go to the World Conferences? I now need to rearrange my calendar no thanks to you.  
>But yes, if you haven't guessed, I've taken your request, but you owe me now!<em>

_~Cadel_

_P.S. When and where's the next conference?  
>Also, do send me any papers I must turn in as the temporary (this is temporary, right?) representative, and send me them through your hexed mail slot.<br>I don't want that poor creature carrying something too heavy._

England rolled his eyes before leaving to his study to supply up the papers in a manila envelope. Sealing up the envelope, he looked for a pen and scribbled down Wale's address and the postal code and pressed on an 82c stamp. He walked over to his door, crouched down, and unlocked the mail slot. Lifting up the lid, he slid the envelope into the slot and closed up the lid, locking it back as it was before.

England's hexed mail slot came by a prank by his older brothers, one he still hadn't found to un-hex. Every time mail —mostly from the other nations as no human, sans the special government-assigned mailman, knows of the house's existence — was sent to his house and entered through the slot, his mail would find itself in the house of one of his brothers. And, whenever they wanted, his brothers would send in junk mail through the hexed slot, quite literally. England would become confused when he'd see banana peels, bottles of beer, whiskey and rum, and even ripped up porn magazines in front of his mail-slot every day. It wasn't until England's birthday that his brother's revealed their prank, which led to his later ranting. For amnesty, his brothers told him that if he wanted to, for whatever reason, send them mail, all he had to do was write down their address and postal code and slid the mail through the slot backwards (meaning send the mail through the slot inside his house).

After sending the papers to Northern Ireland, England took a glance at the other letter he received. Looking at the sender, he found that it was from Scotland. Opening up the letter, he quietly read the letter.

_Arse bandit,_

_Cadel told me that you were going to Hogwarts, so I suggest taking the Hogwarts Express at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters at the King's Cross Station._

_Rossi_

England furrowed his brows, Hogwarts Express? Platform Nine and Three-Quarters? What in god's name are those? (And was it really necessary to address him as an "arse bandit"?) How _much_ did his magical community change from the last time he was there? Yes, he's known about the attacks from Lord Voldemort and Harry Potter from Scotland and the Magical Kingdom (the creatures), but that was about it. He hadn't really paid attention to inventions, discoveries or other matters because he was simply too busy with his Muggle life to tend to his magical realm. He'd wish Scotland was a little more informative about this Hogwarts Express and platform, but at least he knew it was at the King's Cross Station — somewhere.

England placed the letter on his counter-top for perhaps later use and headed into his kitchen and began to make himself breakfast, which consisted of half-burnt eggs, toast with butter and jam and milk.

By the time England finished up his breakfast he saw that it was 11:34. _I'd better go to down to Diagon Alley and buy some supplies… Oh, but silly me, I need to get my money first._England grabbed his keys, wand, and departed his house with a saying calling of a word, _"Apparate!"_

Soon enough, England found himself in Diagon Alley; however, he let out a gasp. _Wow! Everything has really changed! Everything looks so crowed and so… smoggy! They even have some new stores! However, I must stay a little hidden; I don't need to be seen by those I know who're still alive… Like Ollivander…_

England walked around Diagon Alley for awhile, finding the "new" looks and corners quite confusing, as he did so, he gained many odd looks and whispers from others. _So much for keeping a low profile, I'm attracting so much attention because I can't recognize my own alley way!_ As England turned another corner, he smiled as he saw the familiar marble, multistory building.

Entering the building, England walked up the stairs and was met by the gleaming bronzed doors and the goblin in his bicolor uniform (scarlet and gold). The goblin gave him a wary stare but opened the doors nonetheless. England proceeded through the doors and into the extravagant halls of Gringotts and the goblins flanking about. Walking through the entrance hall, England was soon introduced to an approaching goblin.

"Sir, do you need any erm — help or assistance." The goblin grunted.

England stared at the goblin for a moment before speaking, "Yes, er — could you take me to…um… Vault 5?"

The goblin raised an eyebrow and gave England a less-than kind stare, "Vault 5? Are you sure it's _Vault_ _5_."

"Yes, it's… Vault 5… " England confirmed. England knew why this goblin was being quite suspicious or perhaps even cautious of him. Not every day does a person ask for one of the first vaults ever created, even Gringotts himself didn't own Vault 1 or even have a vault in the Premier Hall.

The goblin left toward the teller area and began to talk to one of the goblins, where both stared (or rather glared) at England and one gave the goblin an object, which looked like a choppy wooden book, and began flipping toward its first pages. The goblin stopped and stared for a moment before showing the other goblin the book, and again, the goblins looked back at England and glowered at him.

Soon, the goblin he was talking to came back to him, with the book and a map in hand, and grumbled, "Alright, what's your name sir?"

"Eng- er — Arthur Kirkland, sir." Arthur informed, looking at the goblin.

The goblin only stared at Arthur before mumbling, "Do you have the key to Vault 5, _Mr. Kirkland_."

Arthur took out his keys and selected a gold, fancily engraved and styled key, where the handle of the key twisted and twirled and the engraved markings shown tiny leaf markings and thorns and the teeth of the key was quite meticulous, the teeth resembled to what looked like bristly leaves and rose petals.

Arthur gave the goblin the key and the goblin was expecting the key with an inquisitive face. The goblin then spotted the tiny engraved lettering that read _VAULT_ _O5_ in elegant calligraphy. The goblin then muttered, "Follow me."

The goblin walked to the center hall, or known as the Premier Hall, and lead Arthur down some stairs, halls and doorways and soon enough, Arthur saw the familiar black current glistening in the torch fires that hanging about and multiple symmetrical doors aligned nicely along the long walls. Staring at the water, Arthur began to hear some quiet murmuring coming from the goblin.

"Now… These are the Premier Vaults … Now, let's see… Where's Vault 5…" The goblin then proceeded down Primevi* (where Deuterode* lay across the small obscure river), "Vault 5… Vault 5… Vault 5… Aw, there's Vault 5." The goblin then began to a vault door and had a plain plaque that read VAULT O5.

"Uh sir! That's not my vault!" Arthur frantically said; he should have known better.

The goblin turned to look at Arthur, "Now look 'ere Kirkland, don't you go telling me how to do my job or whatnot, you got that." He then inserted the key into the lock of the vault.

"No, but… You don't understand…" Arthur said hopelessly, trying to find the words to say to the goblin without somehow insulting him.

The goblin turned the key, but the vault did nothing at first. Arthur looked at the vault with unease, waiting for it to happen. And then it happened — he heard the click. The gears in the doors began to shift and turn and the two heard something pop and Arthur very well knew what it was.

The door opened and the goblin let out a gasp. In front of him was a strange creature. At first, he thought it was a lion with its fluffy mane and face, but it had an alicorn and its hind legs looked that of a horse. Was it a unicorn with a large mane? But, no, it didn't look like a unicorn either. Its forelegs looked scaly and it had sharp, frightening talons. Its snout was bulky and it flared razor teeth and forked tongue. It had large bat-like wings with spiral-like talon sticking out of the joints. However, the goblin was terrified by this creature, although it looked like a fusion of a lion, unicorn and bizarre dragon, what disturbed him was how _shiny_ it was. But it wasn't by glossy fur or feathers, it was like polished _steel_.

The beast snarled and fire flared through its nostrils. The beast took a step forward and the goblin took a step back. For an instant, the beast and the goblin stared at each other and then, the goblin yelled and began to run toward Arthur, most likely the stairs behind him. The creature sprinted forward after the goblin, but Arthur stepped out of his memorable state and pulled out his wand and called out, _"__Æquam servare mentem!__"*_ A dazzling ray ghosted its way out of Arthur's star wand and to the brute, where it swirled around like a soothing fog.

The creature looked at Arthur before calmly walking towards him and began to purr as it circled around him. Arthur placed his hand on the fiend's head and began to pet the animal's head. The goblin then spoke behind Arthur.

"H-H-How're you doing that? What is that monster! What was that spell!"

Arthur turned around to face the goblin before saying that, "This is an Emblem*, which — er — belongs to me. The spell I used is to calm him down."

Arthur then walked to the Emblem's vault and guided the Emblem back inside, holding out his wand, he then muttered out, _"__Ave atque vale__.__"*_ The Emblem then became inert and Arthur drew out his key from the lock and then the vault door began to close. Once the door was closed, Arthur then face the goblin, "As I was trying to tell you before, this wasn't my vault. It's a false vault. Don't you think it was too easy for us to get to this vault-way?"

The goblin then took in Arthur's words and realized that it was too easy to get to these vaults. There weren't any magical carts, any confusing twists and turns and no creatures freely lurking about. He then nodded as he understood what Arthur meant.

"Then, if that wasn't your vault, then where is it? It's not across the water, is it?" the goblin asked.

"Actually, it's not quite in this room at all."

"What — what do you mean it's not in the room! This is the only vault room [the Premier Vault Room] the Premier Hall leads to! See, even the map shows it here!" the goblin shrieked, lifting up the map to reveal a lone room with a dark wavy line going through it.

"Yes, you are half-right." Arthur admitted, walking towards the small obscure river.

"Half-right? How am I half-right? It's either in here or not! You better not be wasting my time you crazy wizard!" the goblin barked.

"Just wait here a moment then, I'll just get to my vault myself." Arthur said, before pointing his wand at the river and calling out, _"__Alter idem!__"*_ The murky river then glowed before turning a luminous white. Then, before the goblin could comprehend what was happening, Arthur jumped into the now-lustrous river and the goblin gave a shout of surprise and fell backwards.

"What in Gringott's name just happened?"

**II**

After having jumped through the water, Arthur found himself surfacing up the water. When he gasped for air, he swam to the riverbank and climbed onto the stone pathway. Straightening himself up, he looked around and frowned, "Great, I've swam to the wrong bank."

Where Arthur was standing, it would have been Primevi in the Ærst Parallel*; however, he needed to be at Deuterode. Arthur walked back to the iridescent river and again, jumped in and swam through it to Deuterode. Lifting himself on the pathway, Arthur, yet again, straightened up his posture and started to walk down the passageway.

Arthur then stopped when he found what he was looking for, an elaborate vault door that resembled his key. The vault was musty gold and gold coils twisted about with thorns and leaves sticking out (akin to rose vines) and the knob of the door was a rosebud. Walking to the door, Arthur grabbed the rose, or rather its petals, and began to pull and turn the petals in all sorts of directions.

"Now, how did it go?" Arthur mumbled quietly, twisting a petal to the left, before pushing the petal, hearing a _CLICK_ sound, "Aw, there we go."

The rows rose petals started to spin clockwise while other rows span counter-clockwise. Soon, at the center of the now-blossomed rose, was a small opening that his lovely key would fit. He inserted the key into the lock and the gears (to be more precise, the gold rose vines) started to shift and snake around and the door began to open.

When the doors opened at last, Arthur was faced with vast amount of galleons, sickles, knuts and various types of treasures piled about. The room was glistening and shining from the amounts of wealth frolicking around the room as if it were some haven for the frugal. There were dunes of riches piling so high it might have touched the ceiling. The room was so far spread it was hard to tell where the walls were, or if there were walls. Metallic pillars of some type, whether gold, silver or another, held up the ceiling and every so often, Arthur would see frilly objects such as golden thrones, elaborate mirrors, tea sets, and possessions of defeated prosperous persons.

Walking into his vault, he began to remember his old days as a rowdy pirate, a criminal punk and ruthless ruler. Those were the days…

Looking around, he spotted parts of a boat sticking out of a mountain of galleons. Climbing on top of the galleons, Arthur knelt down and dug away some galleons blocking a hidden plaque. Once down removing the hindering gold, Arthur saw that the plaque revealed the words _GRANDE Y FELICÍSIMA ARMADA_.

"Aw! The Spanish Armada!" Arthur cackled, "I remember that! Spain's face — priceless! Bet he didn't expect my queen to do that, now did he?"

Sliding down the gold with a trail of soft bell-like noises, Arthur looked around to see a tan pouch lying on top of a white-gold altar. Strolling over to the altar, Arthur picked up the pouch and looked inside its contents. Peering inside, he found it filled with handfuls of galleons, but also shining rings, jewelry and gemstones. Dumping out the riches, Arthur took a nice amount of cold-smooth galleons and stuck them inside the pouch. Walking around, he found a mound of sickles and knuts and grabbed a fair sum, and they too, were stuffed inside the pouch.

Sealing up the bag with a pull of the thread, Arthur sauntered over to the vault door and seized his key, fastening it back onto his key-ring. The golden vines coiled as the door closed and Arthur walked over to the white river and pulled out his wand, repeating the words he'd said before, the river turned back into its gloomy self, and again, Arthur jumped into the river with the pouch of few riches clutched in his hand.

Panting for air as he rose for the river, Arthur swam to the bank and wearily mounted himself onto the bank. The goblin from before was still the, however back pressed up against the walls — clearly surprised — staring at Arthur.

"Where — where were you?" The goblin asked, his raspy voice shaken.

"At Æftera Parallel*, that's where my vault is. I tried to tell you that, as I'm sure, neither you nor no one but Gringotts himself knows how to access these vaults er — or the vaults at Æftera." Arthur explained as he began to walk up the stairs.

"A-what?" The goblin questioned, confused at what Arthur was telling him. The goblin then got to his feet and started to walk after Arthur.

"Æftera." Arthur repeated, walking into a tunnel.

The walk back to the Gringotts main hall was quiet, but not for Arthur, who was humming yet another nameless tune. The goblin every now and then would open his mouth to speak, but no words were able to form, as he was still quite shaken by this odd Muggle-born.

Soon, the goblin fisted his hands, as if some odd wizard was going to make him quiver in fear like that! He hasn't done so before and he wasn't going to start now. With all his might, the goblin yelled, "Alright! Who are you! What are you playing at? No one's ever been down here in the Premier Hall or to these vaults! How do you have a key down here! Where'd you get that money from a murky river like that!" Then the goblin gasped. "Y-Y-You're not a Dark Wizard — are you? No... You're not a Dark Wizard..."

Arthur chuckled, "Oh, that's quite alright." He and the goblin turned a corner, stepping into an ascending hallway, "And I have the key because it is_my_ key for _my_ vault."

The goblin only stared at him, "But you still hav—" The goblin was quickly interrupted by Arthur.

"Well, thank you for helping me grab my things, goodbye Griphook." And with that, Arthur left with a wave as he left through Gringotts only entrance.

"What the— How'd he know my name? I never told him!" Griphook shouted, furiously placing his hands on his head and stamping his foot.

"Griphook, what's wrong?" said a goblin teller in circular specs.

"That wretched wizard Bogrod! Whoever he is! — I think he just somehow robbed us! I don't know how, but how does he have a key — that strange key — isn't even a key? — to the Premier Vaults? Nobody has a key to the Premier Vaults! Nobody! But he has one! And the vault, that wretched vault! An Emblem? What in Merlin's name is an Emblem? I've never heard of no Emblem! And that river? The Offterra Parallel?" Griphook fumed.

Bogrod looked alarmed at this, "Griphook, what was the name of that wizard?"

Griphook looked at Bogrod, "He called himself 'Arthur Kirkland', but I know that's a fake. Before, he was about to call himself 'Ing'-something, but he caught himself and said he was 'Arthur Kirkland'." Griphook crossed his arms, "But, he sure was strange, I can't understand why he seems familair, but all at the same time I've never met the man, whatever he is. I had the inkling that I could trust him, even though he was completely confusing and the presses me further of why I shouldn't trust him! I thought he was a Dark Wizard, but even that won't describe what he is!"

"That is… quite interesting." Bogrod said, "I'll look into this Griphook. This is quite an odd event indeed."

**III**

After having left Gringotts, Arthur, yet again, strolled through Diagon Alley, however making a wrong turn to Knockturn Alley. _'__This place, is quite odd… And people keep staring at me…' _Arthur thought as he weaved through the crowd. However, as he got further into the alley, he saw a sign that made his stomach flip — KNOCKTURN ALLEY.

"Bloody hell, I'm in Knockturn Alley?" Arthur cursed. Quickly, Arthur turned around and quickly paced until he saw Gringotts and made a turn for Diagon Alley. However, as he was doing so, he had bumped into someone, "Oh, I'm sorry—"

"Watch where you're going you filthy Mudblood!" the passer-by yelled.

Astonished, Arthur then felt his blood boil, "Now listen you little prat, don't you dare use such foul language — especially in front of me! And I, just so you know, am no Muggle-born!"

"How dare you speak to me like that! Father! Father!" cried the boy, his face red, which looked funny with his blonde-white hair.

Soon, a tall man in black, which the boy resembled heavily sans the long hair, had appeared and held a stiff posture, "Yes Draco?"

The boy then point accusingly at Arthur, "This man here just insulted me! Make him pay!"

"What!" Arthur exclaimed looking at the boy, "Now listen here —"

"Sir, you best know who you're talking to," the man said, "Otherwise unpleasant things — will happen."

Arthur chuckled, "Are you — trying to _threaten_ me? Oh that's a laugh and a good one too. Sir, I've seen and felt much more treacherous things then you, and you are certainly not one of them. Hell, I've met Muggles scarier then you. Now, if that is all, goodbye Lucius. And tell you son Draco to stop with his insufferable behavior."

Arthur then left towards Diagon Alley leaving a stunned and furious Draco Malfoy and leering Lucius Malfoy, "Father! How dare you let him talk to you like that! Make him rue the —"

"Settle down Draco, I've just met quite an interesting fellow…"

"What? What do you mean Father?" Draco asked, confused.

"Well, I never gave the man my name, and neither you yours." Lucius deadpanned.

Draco looked over to Arthur who was walking further and further away, "Oh."

"Keep a tab on this man Draco. Next time you see him, tell me."

"Okay. I will."

Arthur mumbled raucously from the previous event when something caught his eye. Magical Menagerie. Arthur entered the shop and found it very crowded with cages. Arthur covered his nose; the shop had a rancid smell and noises from squawking to hissing made hearing other people slightly impossible.

Arthur walked over to the owl section, planning to buy an owl, when a thought occurred to him. He'd really like a cat. Arthur exited the owl and strolled over to the cats, peering and examining each and every one. He spotted an orange cat, but what really caught his attention was the Scottish Fold next to the cat.

The cat was all white sans the orange spot on its left eye. Its eyes were a beautiful, vivid emerald green and it had an air of sophistication and elegance. Surprisingly, he found that the cat was staring at him, purring. Arthur felt a smile tug at his lips before someone was gently calling for him.

"Sir, would it be okay if you'd hand me that orange cat?" said a girl with long, bushy brow hair.

"Oh, uh yes, that's quite alright." Arthur stammered, reaching for the orange cat. "Here you go."

However, as Arthur attempted to grab the cat, the cat sprang forward and pounced on Arthur's head and bounced off, fleeing with some odd determination and a witch yelled, "NO, CROOKSHANKS, NO!"

The girl then cried out, "Sir! Are you alright? I'm so sorry —"

Arthur placed a hand over his head, "No, no. It's quite alright Hermione."

Hermione stared at him, "How — how do you know my name?"

Arthur stared at her then panicked, how long has he been calling people by their names without proper introduction? _'__Oh dear. I've been subconsciously addressing people by their name, haven't I. Oh my, oh my. This isn't good.'_ "You're attending Hogwarts, aren't you?"

Hermione slowly nodded her head, certainly still quite suspicious of him.

"Well, I was talking to Albus and he talked about a bright, young girl by your description, am I wrong?" Arthur lied.

Hermione blushed, "Oh. Well, yes. I'm Hermione Granger. Are you going to teach at Hogwarts if you were talking to Professor Dumbledore?"

"Yes, in fact I am." Arthur confirmed, grabbing the Scottish Fold, "Lovely isn't he?"

"Yes. Sir —"

"Well, goodbye Hermione. I'm going to go pay for this lovely feline." Arthur said, waving Hermione goodbye while holding the cat and his pouch of wizard currency in his hand.

Hermione watched Arthur pay for the cat [and cat materials] and leave, petting his newfound cat. After a moment, Hermione rushed over to the counter and asked a Magical Menagerie cashier for the orange cat, who rather seemed to take a fancy to Hermione.

Holding the cat, Hermione stepped outside Magical Menagerie and was confronted by Ron.

"You _bought_ that monster?"

After the two fought over about Crookshanks, Hermione just then remembered about the new professor, "Ron, Harry, I just remembered, before I meet this lovely angel," Hermione said, referring to Crookshanks, "I meet a new Hogwarts teacher!"

"Really? What's his — or her — name?" Harry asked, curious about the new teacher.

Hermione gasped, "Oh drat! I forgot to ask him for his name! I was so impolite; after all, he knew my name."

Ron gave her an odd stare, "He _knew_ your name?"

"Yes, he did." Hermione said as a matter-of-fact.

"Do you know him?" Harry asked.

"No. I've just met him." Hermione said.

"That's a little… Uh… Creepy 'Mione." Ron said, giving Hermione a worried stare.

"No, no. He said Dumbledore told him about me." Hermione beamed.

"Oh. Um, okay." Harry and Ron said together, still not quite sure of this new professor.

"That reminds me, you forgot your rat tonic," said Hermione…

**IV**

Walking down Diagon Alley, Arthur was petting his new-found affection, in which he named Excalibur. Excalibur purred as he rubbed his head against Arthur's hand. After awhile of so, when Arthur felt it was safe to apparate, he called out the spell and he was soon home. Arthur tossed his money pouch onto his kitchen table and placed Excalibur on the floor, ruffling the cat's fur and sitting down Excalibur's new cat toys and supplies.

"I must say, it's been a long day. Was it long for you Excalibur?" Arthur asked, looking down at the cat, who only meowed in response.

Arthur chuckled before deciding he felt hungry, in which he made himself a simple, but nice sandwich and Excalibur a tuna dish from his (Excalibur's) Cat Munchies. After both were finished with their meals, Arthur was in his bathroom, already dressed in his nightwear, brushing his teeth and whatnot. When he exited the bathroom and waltzed over to his bed, he fluffed his pillow before lying down.

Arthur's nerves were jumping with excitement, as he would be arriving to Hogwarts in just the next day. For a while, he wondered what'd he be teaching and how it'll feel to truly be back in his magical realm. Arthur wasn't sure when, but while he was thinking of the next day; he slowly fell into his long, restful slumber, with Excalibur sleeping comfortably at his feet.

**i**

**Primevi* — Prim: Latin for "first"; Vi: Latin for "way/path"**

**Deuterode* — Deuter: Greek for "second"; Ode: Greek for "way/path"**

**Æquam servare mentem!* = Latin: "To preserve a calm mind"; this old, forgotten (fake) spell calms an aggressive beast or person's mind.**

**Emblem* — this is (I'm pretty sure) a fake beast that is made by a nation's recognizable symbolic animals; only nations can create an Emblem.**

**Ave atque vale.* — Latin: "hail and farewell"; this is a (fake) spell to inanimate Emblem-like creatures until the next time they're activated.**

**Alter idem!* — Latin: "second self"; this spell is used to transport from the Ærst and Æftera Parallels.**

**Ærst Parallel* — Best way to say this is the "First Parallel"**

**Æftera Parallel* — Best way to say this is the "Second Parallel"**

**ii**

**Yes! Second chapter! n(030)n**

**You love? Tell me you do~ ;3**  
><strong>Also note, the third chapter won't be published in some time as I will be VERY, VERY busy this month of February as I have about three English reportsessay I must complete by Feb. 13th. What sucks is that I could have been done with them by last month. Yay for procrastination and sarcasm ~!**

**Also, I also noted a error in my story, I'm pretty sure cell phones with texting abilities weren't at the time of Harry's third year or so, so I'm editing this history that they were by then invented. :D (Yay for me) But, if Dudley has the not-yet-invented Playstation, then cell phones are more advance and texting is present! :D**

**Questions?**

**And most important—**

**Reviews?**


	3. Cold Surprise

**Harry Potter and the Man of Britannia**

**Chapter 3**

**Cold Surprise**

**DeiDeiArtistic: Third chapter of ****_Harry Potter and the Man of Britannia_****~! Hope you enjoy!**

**Main Dedication: Everyone!**

**Random Quote: "Everyone with a name is important to the world, whether they know it or not."**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Hetalia or any of their characters. They belong to their rightful owner.  
>Claimer: I own the character design of Conor and Quin Kirkland and the plot of this story. :3<strong>

**I**

**W**aking up to his alarm, England did his usual morning routine, without the meddling of his usual faeries. However, in this morning, before progressing to his shower and such, he fed his new affection, Excalibur, his morning meal of tuna. Excalibur was his beautiful feline pet of the male Scottish Fold species. After having showered, England was clad only in a jade towel wrapped around his waist and drying his hair with another, smaller lime-green towel, his body glistening from the droplets of waters sliding down his slim, but well-muscled, body.

After thoroughly drying his body, he slipped on his clothing which consumed of a white turtle neck, blue denims and his undergarments. He walked over to his kitchen, with Excalibur coolly following behind, and made himself a simple breakfast of eggs, sausages and a cup of milk, while also pouring Excalibur a small bowl of milk. Though, while eating, he heard his phone go off in that irritating ring tone, but his mind pondered a different question; '_America_?'

England grabbed his cell phone, a little too quickly one might say, to see just what America had sent him. Opening up the text, he read:

**[From: Alfred F. Jones]  
>[To: Arthur Kirkland]<br>Hey Iggy~! Have a nice week~! ;3  
>[September 1st: 9:56 PM]<strong>

_'Well, I guess he's not mad at me anymore.'_ England thought with a sigh of relief, however, his face quickly reddened at the thought. '_But it's not like I care if he hates me or not! I couldn't give a bloody damn of what he thinks of me!' _But, instead of writing his usual text that started with, "_I told you a thousand times not to call me 'Iggy'!_" or "_Don't you dare tell me what to do!_" or "_Fuck you!_" with a later "_Not literally, I mean sod off!_", he mindlessly sent in his text.

**« Well, you have a nice week as well.**

England was about to place his cell in his pocket when he received another text by Alfred.

**— I luv u~! »***

England blushed by such a comment and clapped his phone shut and thrust it into his pocket. Excalibur looked up at England and meowed as England tossed away his leftovers, having lost the rest his appetite and placed a quick charm for the dishes "to clean themselves". He left to his bathroom to brush his teeth, feeling slightly rushed from the time frame.

When he was done, he left quickly to his study, grabbing his wand, his pouch of money and suit cases (shrinking them both and placing them into him pocket) and then left to his leaving room, where he grabbed his black coat off the coat rack and his umbrella ("Just in case, you can never truly predict the weather, especially in England."). He tucked himself into his coat and called out "_Apparate_!" with Excalibur in hand.

Soon, England found himself at King's Cross Station, but grew very uneasy as he did not know where to go, stroking Excalibur's fur to calm his nerves. He felt like a kid who just missed his bus and was panicking on a way to return home. He looked around, feeling around for Stellintra*, however, intrigued by the near Astreso*. However, doing so, a chill ran its fingers up England's spines and he gasped in shock.

_'Why would they be here? And so near! I must ― I must take precaution…'_

Then, at that moment, England felt it, one of the Stellintra beings ― a wizard. He turned around, scanning for the source. The wizard was closing in and in that moment, England saw the person who owned Stellintra. This person was a man, a young man. He was fairly around England's height and had light-brunette hair, which was speckled with grey every now and then. The man was dressed in a grey suit that seemed to be of some cheap material and carrying a tattered valise. And although his was young, he looked as if he were to pass out any second.

England carefully rushed over to the man, although trying his best not to look desperate and whispered to the man, "Sir, you wouldn't happen to be a… To be a wizard would you?" England inwardly sighed as he was thankful he didn't call the man by his name. Excalibur perked his ears at the man, curiously starring at the being before him, and then giving the slightest of purrs.

The man looked at him, stunned at first before replying, "Why, whatever do you mean? A wizard? That's a little silly, don't you think?"

"No, no. I know of the wizarding world. Do you perhaps know where the platform… Ah… Platform nine and three-quarters is?" England asked, clarifying his knowledge.

The man raised his eyes in surprise and chuckled, "Well then, follow me."

England smiled before taking out his hand for a shake, "Arthur Kirkland. It's a pleasure to meet you."

The man before him smiled and accepted Arthur's greeting, "Professor R. J. Lupin, but you may call me Remus."

The men shook hands and Remus gestured Arthur to follow him until they were at the column between platforms nine and ten, where Arthur found the high concentrated Astreso most powerful. Remus casually walked up to the wall and turned to Arthur and giving him a small nod. Remus leaned against the wall and Arthur jumped back, flabbergasted as Remus fell through the wall. However, Arthur shook away the shock and picked up his nerves and replicated Remus' earlier action. He leaned against the wall and carefully tightened his grip on Excalibur and soon enough he felt the support behind him disappear and landed square on the floor with an "Oof!"

Arthur placed Excalibur on the floor and settled himself back on his feet. He patted away the dust and grabbed his umbrella, in which he dropped when he fell, and looked up, to only gasp. In front of him lay a beautiful scarlet train with steam puffing out of the exhaust. Wizard families were currently bidding their children goodbye and students were merrily rushing through the train corridors.

"Amazing." Arthur breathed out.

"Hm?" Remus questioned, "You've never seen it?"

"Well no." Arthur admitted, "I've only recently heard about it."

"Well than, let's not sit here and chat. Let's go up aboard." Remus chuckled.

Arthur smiled and took Excalibur to his arms so not to lose his beloved feline. The two entered the train, minding the children rushing hastily about. They found themselves an unoccupied compartment and settled themselves inside. Arthur watched Excalibur pounce onto the cushions and settled himself into a comfortable position.

Remus himself placed his little suitcase onto the luggage rack, and then lied down on the seat with a sigh, "If you mind, I'm going to take a nap."

Arthur shook his head, "No, not at all." Arthur placed his umbrella neatly in the umbrella stand and looked around, gazing at the train before seeing a witch pushing a trolley filled with candies — the Honeydukes Express. Arthur carefully walked over to the witch, receiving curious stares from students, but ignoring them nonetheless, but slightly curious of why they looked at him curious.

The witch looked at him and threw him a smile, "What would you like dearie?"

Arthur glanced at cart and eyed the colorful assortments, from Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans to Pumpkin Pasties. Arthur took more than a handful of Chocolate Frogs and held them up, "How much would these cost?"

The witch chuckled, "A bit of a chocoholic my dear?"

Arthur blushed before giving a small chortle. "I guess you could say that."

"That would be 13 sickles dearie." The witch said as Arthur placed the correct amount into her hand.

Arthur placed the all the Chocolate Frogs but one into his money pouch (in which he placed into his coat pocket) and traveled back to his shared compartment to find Remus sound asleep. He sat down and crossed his legs, in a strange feminine way, and Excalibur crept himself onto Arthur's lap and curled into a ball and purring with content. Arthur chuckled and unwrapped the Chocolate Frog. He popped the chocolate into his mouth and hummed with content.

Arthur looked into the Chocolate Frog and found a card:

QUEEN MAEVE

WITCH WHO TRAINED YOUNG SORCERERS IN IRELAND PRIOR TO THE ESTABLISHMENT OF HOGWARTS.

Arthur smiled. "Aw Maeve, such a lovely woman…"

However, Arthur felt a pang of sadness over come him.

…

_Arthur Kirkland, physically about 5 years old in human years, watched curiously behind the castle walls. Conor Kirkland, Ireland, was slowly dancing with the Irish Monarch's soon-to-be-queen Maeve. Maeve was resting her head on Conor's shoulder and the two were calmly swaying about. In one hand, Conor was tenderly holding Maeve, caressing it slowly while his other was wrapped around Maeve's waist. Maeve's free hand was holding onto Conor's shoulder, near her face. Her eyes were closed and there was a ghost of a smile across her lips._

_Conor had tousled-up brunette hair tied into a short-low pony-tail. His eyes were a grey-green color, he had fair-to-pale skin and a light layer of freckles dashed his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. He was very tall (but all adults were to Arthur) and lean. He wore a dark blue tunic, black trousers with green and yellow embroidered designs trailing down his attire, white leggings, a dark blue coif and brown cloak and leather shoes._

_Maeve was clad in a loose white chemise with a violet kirtle over it. Over the kirtle were a frilly purple bodice and skirt and on top of that was the black surcoat. Draped over her shoulders was a velvet cape and adorn on her head was a French hood with a white veil and bonnet. Maeve had red, medium-length hair and stark-bright blue eyes. Her skin was pale, but beautiful._

_Arthur himself was only clad in his dark green tunic, his short brown trousers, white leggings and his black hooded-cloak and leather shoes._

_Conor leaned in for a kiss, in which Maeve happily accepted. Arthur scorned the two from the sight before blushing when the two became much more intimate. Arthur quickly left and hopped down the castle wall, landing with a THUD from unbalance. Arthur winced slightly from the pain, but stood up and patting away dust and dirt._

_Arthur was about to leave when he was suddenly picked up by the collar from behind._

"_Agh!" Arthur screamed, kicking his small feet and waving his small arms._

"_What are you doing eejit?" Quin asked. Quin, looked very much like Conor, however the color of his clothes were dark red, black and indigo._

"_Nothing you gobshite Mick!" Arthur cried, doing his best to punch his brother._

"_Hey! There'll be wigs on the green if yeh don't cut that out ya Tan." Quin said as he used his free hand to smack Arthur on the head._

"_Ow…" Arthur muttered, rubbing his head as Quin let him down._

"_So… My plonker-of-a-brother is with the lack I assume?" Quin asked, looking up._

"_Yes, he is." Arthur muttered, looking darkly at Quin, "Why don't you tell him to stop? It's only going to hurt him."_

_Quin sighed and looked at Arthur, giving him a solemn look, "One day, you'll understand."_

_Arthur pouted and crossed his arms, "He shouldn't be doing such things! He's going to torture himself over her!"_

_Quin shook his head, "Someday, Arthur, someday..."_

_During Maeve's wedding, Arthur eyed the bride, whose fake smile could not conceal her watery eyes to him. Conor had not, or ever, arrived at such a "blessed" event and had sunken into a depression, behaving like a "narky, dry shite" (Quin). This made Arthur quite happy, as it was Conor's punishment for starting such taboo activities._

_However, Arthur frowned when he caught sight of the two snogging in Conor's corridors in a later date. Arthur fisted his hands as he thought once the dame was married, it would have ended their relationship — but alas, it did not. Arthur left with a hurry and ran away to the forest, to play with his Fae. A kid shouldn't have to deal with so much anger or stress._

_It wasn't until years later, that Arthur had to deal with a much more miserable, dejected man — Conor. He slumped against the walls moaning and crying his heart out in his alone time and having episodes of rage. Maeve had died._

…

Arthur was quickly broken out a thought when he heard someone whisper out, _"Professor! — Professor?"_

"Yes? 'Ello?" He said as he looked to see Hermione, in her female Hogwarts uniform, waving a hand at him with a smile on her face, while in another hand was a basket. The two clad in the male Hogwarts uniform next to her, he already knew. "Oh! Hello Hermione! It's nice to see you again. Hello Ron — Harry."

However, the moment he said that, he inwardly chided himself. Again, his habit slipped off and he was at risk in exposing who, or what, he is.

"How… How did you know our names Sir?" Ron asked, slightly paling.

"We never gave you our names." Harry added.

Arthur gave an unsure laugh, "Well, when I was talking to Albus about Hermione, he said that a Ron Weasley and a Harry Potter would always be by her sides. Did I assume wrongly?"

"No, you guessed correctly…" Ron said, however still sounding unsure.

"Oh Professor, you never gave me your name the other day." Hermione said, frowning.

"And you know ours, so it isn't really fair…" Harry said.

"And it's a tad creepy…" Ron whispered under his breath, just enough for only Harry and Hermione to hear, earning a choked laugh from Harry and an elbow from Hermione.

"Oh! Silly me, I'm Arthur Kirkland." Arthur smiled.

"Well, hello Professor Kirkland." Hermione said with a smile.

"Hermione said you're going to work at Hogwarts," Harry informed. "What are you going to teach?"

"Frankly, I don't know. Albus said he would inform me as soon as I arrive at Hogwarts." Arthur said, chuckling when Excalibur decided he wanted Arthur's attention all to himself by rubbing his head under Arthur's chin. Arthur gave a long stroke to Excalibur's back.

"Oh." The trio chimed simultaneously.

"Well, goodbye Professor Kirkland." Hermione said, waving a goodbye to Arthur.

"Goodbye Hermione." Arthur smiled.

"Bye." The two boys said, following Hermione back to their side of the compartment.

**II**

"'Mione, there's something awfully odd about that Professor." Ron said under his breath as he watched Arthur pull an old-looking book from his coat pocket, "He's a Muggle, going to Hogwarts and somehow knows our names because he 'talked with Dumbledore'. Bollocks! He doesn't even now his own position! He's too suspicious! He could be… _He could be_ a _spy for You-Know-Who_ _and is_ _after Harry._" He whispered the last part.

"Oh Ron! Stop being so — so — insufferable! _And how could he be a spy for You-Know-Who if he's a Muggle? _Plus, we don't even _know_ if he's a Muggle!" Hermione hissed back, crossing her arms in frustrations.

Ron looked at Harry and whispered, "Well, what about you Harry?"

A wide smile spread across Harry's face, "I was too distracted by his _massive_ eyebrows."

Ron and Harry burst out laughing while Hermione was trying to stifle a giggle. Professor Kirkland turned to look at the laughing trio, who awkwardly smiled and waved back, and then he simply shrugged and went back to reading.

"'Mione, why didn't you tell us the block had such huge caterpillars?" Ron asked with a wide grin.

Hermione blushed, "Because it's rude! That's why!"

"How'd you think they got that way? An engorgement charm gone haywire?" Ron snickered. Just then, they heard the sound of a book slamming shut and Professor Kirkland had left the compartment, if not a little shaky.

"Do… Do you think he heard us?" Hermione squeaked, simply terrified that they had _just mocked a teacher_ and that _he heard it_.

"Probably… Hopefully not. I already have enough teachers that hate me." Harry stated, before the three of them heard a loud snore, from Professor Kirkland's side of the compartment, but emanating from the sleeping man.

"Who d'you reckon he is?" Ron hissed…

**III**

Arthur was leafing through his old picture album after he had taken out his coat-pocket, decided something as precious as this shouldn't be tucked away in his suitcase. For a while, he only stared at one. The picture was a photo of a portrait in his home, which was hidden away. In the photo was a painted portrait of him and young Alfred sitting on his lap.

Arthur was clad in a white linen shirt, a grey waistcoat, a well-suited black coat and breeches, and white stockings and black-buckled low-pump shoes. Around his neck was a white cravat. He looked like any other Colonial man save for the wig, as he was much fonder of his natural hair, which was slightly longer then and was tied into a low pony-tail.

In his lap, sat young little Alfred. Instead of his usual light blue frock with its red-lace bow, Alfred was dressed in a boys' suit — white cotton shirt, a blue linen coat and trousers, white stockings and dark brown leather shoes. Alfred's hair was nicely trimmed, however that persistent strand of hair was still there and defying Alfred's neatly combed hair. Alfred was embracing Arthur with a hug with one arm, in the other his little rabbit. Across his face was his now infamous, oblivious grin, but back then, even though still oblivious, it was quite cute and innocent.

Arthur sighed, this portrait was taken when around the time when he started to help colonize and civilize Alfred in Virginia Colony. He chuckled when after the portrait was done, how much Alfred had whined of how his butt or face hurt or that his legs were numb and that Arthur just had to carry him. Alfred was so happy with Arthur; life was so simple back then.

But Arthur felt his heart ache slightly, because the times now, he could never see eye-to-eye with Alfred. And even then, Alfred was able to give him a confounding confession — and in front of everyone at the World Meeting! Arthur felt his cheeks flushed and strayed away his mind from such distracting thoughts.

He flipped another page or so and set his attention on another photo (or picture of a portrait). In this photo, it was of Alfred and Matthew, wearing similar boys' suits. Alfred dressed in another vision similar to the one in the other photo; however it was of a darker blue and Matthew's suit was a light lilac. Matthew was cuddling close with his little Polar bear — Kuma-something — and Alfred was holding his possibly-aged bunny.

Arthur smiled, this was when the two little colonies first met, and although Matthew still learning English at the time, Alfred was still happy and giddy with his brother (however Arthur had not known the boys had known and seen each other before, but haven't been able to hang around each other as often as they like from territorial grounds and disputes — but they wouldn't tell Arthur _that_).

When he was about to flip through to the next page, he heard the Golden Trio, on the other end of the compartment, burst into giggles and out of curiosity, he looked up. The trio flashed him quick smiles and waves and returned whispering about. He shrugged and gazed upon old memories again, nostalgia only a glance away in his heart. Arthur sighed, finding it too painful to turn another page and clapped his book hard with a sigh of woe.

Arthur tucked the book into his coat and stood up, needing a quiet and less-occupied space. He walked away and entered the small pathway of the Hogwarts Express and walked until he saw a small stall. On the entrance of the compartment was a small silver plaque with engraved etchings. The plaque was cut in half diagonally and on the top half was the simple image of a girl, and on the bottom half was a boy. However, Arthur noticed there wasn't a doorknob, or away into the stall.

Arthur frowned and furrowed his brows, how in the world was he going to get into? Then a thought occurred to him, _'No… It couldn't possibly be as something so simplistic… Could it?'_

Arthur brought a hand to the plaque and pressed the male icon. Like a button, the male-half of the plaque pushed back and a soft glow appeared underneath. A doorknob appeared and Arthur took it into his hand and he turned it. He then entered the small space and closed the door behind him.

He walked over to the sink and flicked on the water. He cupped his hands and started the process of splashing his face with water. After a while or so, Arthur stopped and shut the water off and just then the lanterns of the restrooms went out, but he didn't care at the moment, just only the pain and anger he felt. He placed his arms over the sink and his hands gripped tightly onto the sides of the sink, it was then Arthur realized how much he was shaking and panting and he cursed himself for it.

Roughly, he ran a hand over his head and finally felt the tears streaming down his face. He gritted his teeth and blinked away the tears. _'Damn it… Why? Why!'_

Arthur raged silently as he felt the warm droplets slide off his face. He cursed himself for being so weak, so vulnerable, and so pathetic. He clutched his shirt, just where his heart was. His feeble and wretched heart that always caused him so much pain in all those years his lived. He felt so icy, so empty and drastically in a painful nostalgic aura that he felt that he'd collapse from it all. But he also felt the need to just lash out at all who's hurt him. How good it'd be just to see them beg for mercy and pity…

'_No!'_ Arthur screamed in his mind, feeling the rampant feel of fury coursing through his body. Instantly, Arthur quickly turned and his hand drifted quickly to his hips to draw his gun, but when he didn't feel it, he remembered he didn't have it on him, and that he was in the magical world. He shoved his hand into his pocket and drew out his wand and grew it back to size and shot out the words, _"Patronus!"_

The dementor shielded itself but it was no use against Arthur's massive patronus, which was a rabbit with long-floppy ears. The dementor eerily floated up and ghosted away in a slow, yet fast manner. However, Arthur felt his knees wobbled under him and he groped around for the wall before clasping onto the floor in a cold sweat. Even with his precautions, he was utterly hopeless. Arthur soon felt the world was both spinning counter and clockwise and his mind gradually fading to be comparable with the darkness of the room he was in.

When Arthur awoke, he found himself being lightly shaken by someone. Someone with familiar light-greying brown hair and pale complexion. _"A…t…r? — Ar…th…r? — Ar…thur? — Arthur?"_

Although his eyes were hazy for a moment, his sight was refining itself until he furrowed his brows in confusion and squinted from the now-light lanterns, "Remus? Remus, where are we? Wait… No, I remember… I went to the loo to cool down a bit… and then those terrible vibes… those damned dementors…" Arthur got up to his feet, feeling a tad bit unbalanced, and mumbled quietly to himself, leaving Remus slightly confused, though he didn't show it.

"Well, are you alright? Chocolate?" Remus asked, holding out a small chocolate bar to Arthur.

Arthur shook his head, "No, no. I've already have chocolate in my pouch. The Chocolate Frogs from the… Honeydukes Express? That's what it's called right?"

Remus nodded his head, "Yes. Would you like to go back to our seats?"

Again, Arthur shook his head, "No, but I'll meet you back in just a bit. Okay?"

Remus gave the slightest of frowns but nodded, "Alright. Well, I'll see you then Arthur. Take care, alright?"

Arthur nodded and watched Remus exit the restroom. Arthur turned back to the sink and looked hard into the mirror. Arthur brought a hand to his cheek and traced the trail of tear-streaks. _'So that's why he seemed concerned… Damn… To appear so weak and to be caught in such a flimsy state… I'm such a piteous being… No! Ill thoughts will only lead into anger… And anger is such a powerful weapon…'_

Arthur turned on the water and washed his face then grabbed a paper towel to dry up his face. Tossing away the paper, Arthur left the restroom and walked back into his shared compartment-seats. He sat down and saw the student trio looking as solemn as ever. Remus, who sat across the silent trio, looked up as he saw Arthur walk into the compartment and told him that they'd be arriving to Hogwarts in a good seven-to-eight minutes. Arthur gave a thank-you to Remus as sat down, watching Excalibur play idly with Crookshanks.

Soon, the long minutes passed and the train was at Hogsmeade station and those aboard were jostling about, only to be met with heavy rains and bitter winds. Arthur clutched his coat and drew out his umbrella, doing his best to fend off the icy weather from himself and Excalibur, who was wrapped beneath his coat. As he followed the crowd of students, he heard a man shouting, "Firs' years this way!"

Arthur looked to see a giant, or more precise, half-giant, with a wild look about him. Long, unkempt black hair and beard, dirty complexion and arrayed in animal-hides — Rubeus Hagrid, Hogwarts' gamekeeper. First years shakily walked towards Hagrid and all started to walk across the lake, followed by students who know knew the route to the school, where Arthur followed behind Remus.

Soon, they were met with drawn stagecoaches and Arthur gave a small grin of reminiscence. He followed Remus into a carriage and the ride to Hogwarts began. Arthur sat by the window, with Excalibur in his lap as he stared idly out the window and watched the wet scenery change before him. It was soon enough they arrived to large iron gates, bordered with its iconic doors with winged boars. It was then, Arthur felt that arctic chill down his spine and he saw two cloaked dementors, and one gave a slight threat of moving from its post, which caused Arthur to look away and shrink into his seat.

"Are you alright Arthur?" Remus asked, peering at Arthur with a concerned look.

"Yes, I'm alright. Nothing a bit of chocolate can't fix." Arthur gave Remus a fake smile and fumbled for his money pouch and took out a Chocolate Frog. Unwrapping it, he took the frog and popped it into his mouth with a chime of delight and gave a small chuckle when he saw that his given door was Albus Dumbledore.

The coach entered the gates and it wasn't soon long when everyone had arrived to Hogwarts and scuttling out of the carriages. Arthur (and Excalibur, who yet again was protected underneath his coat) stepped out after Remus and sighed with relief. His heart ached with pleasurable memories.

**IV**

Remus stepped out onto the wet land of Hogwarts and started towards the stairs into Hogwarts' entrance, Arthur following slowly behind him. It was when he was walking he saw the young Harry Potter, with his close friends, being confronted by the Malfoy boy and his posse. He hurried his step just in time to here Malfoy say, "Did the scary old dementor frighten you too, Weasley?"

"Is there a problem?" Remus asked, knowing the obvious but playing innocent.

Malfoy gave Remus a rude stare before saying, "Oh, no — er — Professor." Malfoy smirked at his little gang and the three of them walked up the steps into the castle.

Remus turned to Harry, "Are you alright?"

Harry sulked, "Yeah, other than being bothered by the fact that I was the only person to faint by a dementor, I'm totally fine."

Remus gave a small laugh and leant forward to Harry, "I wouldn't say that. After the dementor came and the lights returned, I looked around the Hogwarts Express and I found Professor Kirkland passed out on the floor of the loo. So, you're not the only one to be effected so drastically by a dementor."

Harry gave a surprise look to Remus, "What, really?"

Remus chuckled, "Yes, but let's keep this a secret between us, I'm not sure how Professor Kirkland would like being talked about behind his back, okay?"

Harry grinned, "Okay."

Harry left Remus to join in with Ron and Hermione and the three of them traveled up the stairs and into the Great Hall before Harry and Hermione were called by Professor McGonagall. Remus himself walked and entered Hogwarts to be meet by Arthur.

**V**

Arthur walked down the Great Hall, with Remus to his right and Excalibur in his arms, and kept on walking until he saw that familiar silver beard and those smiling eyes, "Albus! You old bugger! Growing out your beard so long I see!" Arthur smiled as he placed down Excalibur and waved to Dumbledore. Remus, and many students nearby gave Arthur shocked and perplexed looks.

Dumbledore laughed, "Ah! Sir Kirkland! Long time no see! My! The years have been to kind to you! Haven't changed a bit! Ah! I've see you've got a pet now!" Dumbledore walked over to Arthur and gave him a hug and pat on the back, in which he gladly returned.

Dumbledore then placed a hand over Arthur's shoulder, "Come walk with me Sir — no, no — _Professor_ Kirkland." Dumbledore chuckled with a smile to his old face, his eyes squinting.

Arthur walked down the Great Hall with Dumbledore. The two were chatting of small things, like Fawks and Excalibur and such-the-like. They walked through halls, stairways and secret and trick passage ways. Soon, they met up with a dark marble-statue of a dragon.

"This is the entrance towards your office and room," Dumbledore informed. "The default password to enter your office is 'wire twire' and to enter your room is 'super tidily wink'. You may change them when you like."

"Thank you Albus. Shall we head to the Great Hall too set up the Sorting of the Houses?" Arthur suggested.

Dumbledore chuckled, "Ah yes, we should."

Walking back to the Great Hall, Arthur took a seat next to Remus at the teachers' table (with Excalibur on the floor with a small gold, but empty, dish) and Dumbledore took his own seat. However, although all the professors were seated into their respected chairs, Dumbledore still stayed up, and with a wave of his hands, he merrily shouted, "Let the Sorting begin!"

Soon, the Sorting Hat sung his little song and its audience clapped in awe. Professor Flitwick held out a list and began calling out names of the giddy first years. It was a long while before Professor Flitwick called out the last student. It was then Arthur saw the Golden Trio enter in the Great Hall and Dumbledore stood up and gave a small speech, talking about being the dementors' "temporary host grounds" and that students must stay clear of their way. It was then Dumbledore smiled.

"On a happier note," he continued, "I am pleased to welcome a few new teachers to our weeks this year…"

After introducing Remus Lupin and Rubeus Hagrid, followed by cheering and clapping from the students and fellow staff, Dumbledore gave a solemn face, "Now, I'm sure you by now have noticed we are missing another familiar face. Today, I come before you to inform you all, that Professor Cuthbert Binns has also retired like Professor Kettleburn. During the break, Binns, and I quote, is 'just too old to do this job any more'.

"However, today, I bring you Sir — ah, sorry. Old habits die hard — _Professor_ Arthur Kirkland will be teaching _both_ a History of Magic _and _Muggle Studies, as not many students are taking such a fun class. Professor Kirkland, you may introduce yourself among the students and staff if you have not yet met."

Arthur smiled ad stood up, bowing to Dumbledore, "Aw, thank you Albus," Arthur then turned toward the young souls staring curiously at him."Hello, as Albus has informed you, I'm Arthur Kirkland and I'll be your History of Magic's and Muggle Studies teacher. I hope that we all will be in good terms this year. Oh, and if you see a lovely little Scottish Fold, that is my dear Excalibur. Please do mind him and not harm the little creature."

Arthur took yet another gentlemanly bow and sat down in his seat and Dumbledore spoke again, "Well, I think that's everything of importance," said Dumbledore. "Let the feast begin!"

The beautiful gold tableware before them had suddenly been filled with foods and drinks and the Great Hall was now filled with merry chatter and laughter and the clatter of utensils. Arthur happily ate his food with a smile to his face, and Excalibur was more than happy to see his dish fill up with tuna. It had certainly been a _long_ time since Arthur had had a happy feast, or in fact, ate with a table — or room — filled with people — or beings — he _didn't_ despise.

After the feast, everyone scampered among the halls, going about the stairways and passages ways that Hogwarts had offered them. Arthur traveled up towards his room (with Excalibur following coolly behind) mumbling away in his throats when he came to bump into another being.

"Opps! My apologies —" Arthur cut himself off, as he was only a second away before blurting out the man's name before him.

"Snape. Professor Severus Snape." Snape said with a board, but strict tone. Arthur knew if Francis were to meet Snape, he'd die if he saw the poor treatment the man's oily and unkempt black hair — and the poor complexion — he had was in.

"Ah, yes. Well, I'm sorry Professor Snape." Arthur repeated, moving to the side to allow Snape to pass by.

"Yes, well. Be sure it doesn't happen again." And with that, Snape walked through the halls with that stoic look about him.

Arthur sighed and brushed a hand through his hair, "I need to look where I'm going… Or much less destroy that awful habit of mine… Though it might come in handy with the classes…"

Arthur walked to his room entrance and casted out the spell to reveal the hidden room behind it and entered his room, noticing Excalibur had disappeared, but saw that the cat had probably gone to explore his new surroundings. The room was marvelously spacious and had a lovely Victorian-look about it, which made his heart melt with desire and joy. He looked around and saw a dark-mahogany escritoire and chair, a four-post bed with grooved-etching and designs throughout the wood and a lovely mantle over the post. The room was a beautiful white illuminated with greens and gold and beautiful wallpapers of the same two hues. The lanterns and chandeliers were a magnificent and elegant as well as being matching sets. The windows were placed in an excellent spot, giving him a perfect view of the sunset of the horizon of the lake before him. There were doors that presumably lead to the bathroom and or closet. And around the room was small furniture, from small table-sides to loveseats to footstools and wardrobe.

It was the wardrobe that reminded Arthur of the luggage in his pocket and the objects in his coat. He placed his hand in his pocket and extracted his luggage, where he returned them to size and casted a charm so that they may set themselves properly in their respected area-space. He drew out his money pouch and placed it inside a cabinet of the writing desk and placed his wand with it. In another cabinet space, Arthur placed his book inside and casted a jinx, hex, spell, _and_ charm over it so no intruder or snoop could get to it. He placed his umbrella in the umbrella stand and shrugged of his coat, in which he placed on to the coat rack. He dressed out of his clothes and put on his nightwear, in which he took out of the wardrobe.

Walking into the bathroom, which was as beautiful and corresponding to his bedroom, Arthur did what was his natural and nightly routine. Once he was down, he discovered Excalibur on his bed, sleeping and walked over to his bed and ruffling the cat's fur, who meowed in response. He set the wizard alarm* on his nightstand to 7:00 AM. He then fluffed his pillows and tucked himself neatly into the covers and Excalibur sleeping contently at his feet. Arthur's nerves were excited, he was finally at Hogwarts, and the only thing stopping him from teaching him was only the night and sleepiness about him.

**i**

**« » and — : This is part of French punctuation-grammar rules, and although I wasn't using any sort of French, I decided to use it as a sort of format to show that that is a text and not some sort of emphasis and blah... It probably isn't necessary, but... Yeah. O3o**

**Stellintra*— Latin; stell: star; intra: within, inner; meaning "star within". Stellintra can only be referred to organic beings or animated beings like creatures and humanoids. A Stellintra being, for example, can be a wizard or fairy or unicorn.**

**Astreso* — Greek; astr, astro: star; eso: within; meaning "star within". Astreso can only be referred to inorganic beings or inanimate beings like a rock or water.**

**wizard alarm*— the wizard alarm in Arthur's room is a glass ball floating above circular platform and reads whatever time it is and displays it in bright lettering. Depending on the day and weather, it will show either an image of a sun or moon with whatever whether that corresponds to the time and day/night, in which was an actual image of the current sun/moon and weather outside.**

**ii**

**Yes! Third Chapter! Do you like! Please tell me how you thought about it! Following or favoriting may be totally awesome, but the comments are ****_JUST_****_SO_****_FUN_**** (— I need to know if I'm doing anything wrong or right (like being too fast or slow)). ;3**

**Fourth chapter will be on its way, but not at the moment, or any time so soon, kay? But don't fret my pets, it will come. ;3**

**Woo! I posted on a LEAP DAY! Now how many people publish a chapter/story on a leap day? I'm sure many people do but who cares because ****_I _****posted on a leap day!**

**:D And OMHRE! I just got done with state exams~!**

**Okay, I'll get off my soapbox.**

**With sincerity,**

**DeiDeiArtistic**

**P.S. You lost the game.**


	4. Man with the Power? Part 1

**Harry Potter and the Man of Britannia**

**Chapter 4**

**Man with the Power?**

**Part 1**

**DeiDeiArtistic: Fourth Chapter [Part 1]~! Hope you enjoy!**

**Sole Chapter Dedication: Fall in the Void**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or Harry Potter or their characters; they belong to their rightful owners.  
>Claimer: I own this story plot, Rossi Kirkland, Nelly, and what obviously isn't from Hetalia or Harry Potter.<strong>

**I**

**H**ermione fumed as she set the Time-Turner an hour back in order to attend her final first period — Muggle Studies with Professor Kirkland. When the time had reversed, Hermione set off to her class. While walking to Muggle Studies (descending down stairs and pathways in order to get to the first floor), her anger from her argument with Ron dissipated and she soon found herself smiling. She clutched her Muggle Studies text book (_Muggles: Struggle and Survival without Magic*_) and entered Professor Kirkland's classroom, gasping at what she beheld. Hanging on the walls and ceilings were various small flags that she recognized were of other countries; most seemed to be from Europe, Asia and the Americas. However, she noticed two rather well known flags were not up, the French and American flags.

Scattered about the room were posters of Muggle objects with labels and descriptions (i.e. "TELEPHONE: A MUGGLE OBJECT IN WHICH A MUGGLE COMMUNICATES TO ANOTHER MUGGLE FROM DISTANT LOCATIONS"). The desks were set a in circular fashion with a much larger desk, presumably the teacher's desk, placed in the corner across from the entrance of the room. There were two blackboards: one behind Professor Kirkland's desk and the other mirroring it on the opposite wall. On a desk set by the window was a black, bulky device, which Hermione recognized as a computer set. Many students were huddled around it, amazed by such a thing, despite the fact that it was not turned on, as Muggle devices did not work in Hogwarts, and was merely put up for display. She also noticed the bookshelf was filled with Muggle books, tea-sets… and small unicorn figurines?

Hermione read the first blackboard (as the other lacked any form of information) and quietly read, _"Take a seat to your liking. Be respectful. —Kirkland"_. Hermione shrugged with a pleased "Hm" and took a seat near the door, giving her a good view of the room — from the entrance corner to her right, to the windows displaying the part of the forest and fields and to the corner adjacent to the door. It also gave a clear view of Professor Kirkland's desk, but Hermione wasn't going to admit that reason to anyone.

Hermione laid her book on the desk and waited patiently for Professor Kirkland to return from wherever he was, students still crowding around the computer in awe. It wasn't long before Professor Kirkland walked into the room, gave an apology to the students for his delay, and asked for everyone to have a seat. The students shuffled into their seats as Ernie Macmillan took a seat next to her.

"Hello, Hermione." Macmillan greeted as he sat down to the left of Hermione.

"Hello, Ernie." Hermione greeted back.

Professor Kirkland erased the board and wrote down _"Professor Kirkland"_. He then walked down to the center of the room and stood perfectly still, waiting for everyone to settle down and prepare for further instructions. Hermione studied Professor Kirkland for a moment. He wasn't wearing a wizard robe; he was clad in a greyish-blue tweed suit with a black tie, a clipboard in hand and his hair was, well, a very tousled-up mess.

As Professor Kirkland was scribbling down at his clipboard, Hermione noticed something particularly odd. Was he using a Muggle pen? Why would he be using a pen? Maybe it was and old habit and he hadn't realized it. Once he was done, he tucked the pen into his left breast-pocket and his arms dropped to his sides as he let out a hum-like sigh and smiled. Hermione wondered what he had written down.

"Hello. As you can see on the board — I hope — I'm Professor Kirkland. I'll be your Muggle Studies teacher in this class. In other circumstances, I may be your History of Magic teacher. Now, any questions?"

A girl then asked in a rather rude manner. "Why do you call Professor Dumbledore by his first name?"

The corners of Professor Kirkland's mouth twitched. "Because he and I are very good friends. Anything else?"

Hermione then saw Macmillan raise his hand. "But why does Professor Dumbledore call you 'Sir' or 'Professor' if you're 'very good' friends?"

"His reasons are his own. Now, are there any questions that aren't about me or Albus?"

"Are you a Muggle?"

At this, Professor Kirkland looked highly offended. "I am most certainly not a Muggle! The nerve! No more questions!"

_'Well, that proves Ron's "Muggle Theory" wrong. But... is he a Muggle-born like me? Could he be a Pure Blood? But "Kirkland" isn't one of the known Pure Blood names… Or is he not a wizard at all? A squib?' _Hermione wondered for a long moment before Professor Kirkland cleared his throat.

"Okay, class, shall we start today's lesson?"

Hermione instantly shot her hand up, "Professor, you haven't done our attendance." Her only response was a chuckle from the teacher.

"That's quite alright. I've already done the attendance."

Hermione furrowed her brow in confusion. "But you haven't call—"

"Everyone is very much present, no need to worry over such trivial matters. Nothing much goes by without my knowledge." Professor Kirkland smirked. "Now, in this class, we won't bother too much with those books that each of you carry in your hands. If we use them, it would mostly be for — well er — the pictures…"

Hermione gasped. Not use the books? Is it Divinations all over again? "What do you mean we won't be using the books that often? There are many things Muggles have created without the use of magic; how could you possibly remember them all?"

Professor Kirkland gave an odd grin. "You could say I have a… an eidetic memory for such things."

Hermione pouted. That wasn't really the answer she was looking for.

"Okay, everyone take out your paper and pens — oh, silly me, I meant _parchment and quills_." Kirkland laughed quietly, "I wonder how long it's been since I asked for such materials…"

As everyone got their materials set up and their books set aside, Professor Kirkland began talking about times way back in history. He spoke of cave men, the wheel, and various ancient civilizations. Every so often, the words _"My mum told me—"_ would slip out, and the scribbling and scratching of quills on parchment was heard quietly as he spoke.

While Professor Kirkland was talking about the developments of early Muggles, explaining wizards _were not present at the time_, which many found shocking, the students (and Professor Kirkland) heard a loud, raucous laughter along with yelling echoing from the halls.

It was then that the door burst open and the students found their teacher being thrown up into the air, yelling and sputtering suppressed profanities.

"_My ickle mate! My lovely mate! My long lost mate!"_ Peeves sang as he spun around Professor Kirkland while the students, as well as Hermione, gawked at the scene.

_"For long, I grew sad — as my ickle mate was gone! Too long! Too long! For far too long! — And here today, you hear I say? Rumors of the oddly man! The oddly man! The oddly man who is so grand! My longlost mate, it was of fate that you'd come back!"_

Peeves laughed and threw Professor Kirkland up once again, before freezing, and dropping Kirkland.

"Peeves! I know you're happy, but that was more than enough if I do say so myself!" Professor Kirkland huffed, patting away any imaginary dust. "What's with that look upon your face?"

Peeves whirled around Professor Kirkland and began lifting up pieces of furniture, ignoring Arthur's protests for him to stop, before muttering out, "Where are they?"

"Who?" Professor Kirkland questioned.

"Why, Arthur's little ones! Where are Arthur's little ones?" Peeves questioned, looking at Professor Kirkland with a drastic pout upon his face.

Professor Kirkland grimaced and sourly crossed his arms. "They're certainly not here if that's what you're asking — and they are most certainly not 'little' or 'mine' anymore."

"What! Peeves misses Alfie and Alfie Two. Peeves wants Arthur's Alfies! Peeves wants Arthur's little ones!"

"PEEVES, GET OUT!" Professor Kirkland barked.

Peeves only laughed. "Aww. Is it not tickety-boo* for widdle Arthy-poo?"

"PEEVES!" Professor Kirkland flared, starting towards the poltergeist, who in return gave a dramatic girly shriek and fled towards the hallway.

Professor Kirkland ran an agitated hand through his hair and huffed. Without turning back to his students, he sighed and dully said, "That's it for class today. You may all leave early. Be respectful and behave yourselves once you're out and about."

The students gave small cheers towards each other and started towards the door, quietly whispering and gossiping about what had just happened.

Hermione was about to leave when Macmillan whispered to her. "Pretty strange what just happened, don't you think?"

Hermione nodded. "It certainly was. I'm going to stay back a bit, okay?"

Macmillan nodded. "Okay. See you around, Hermione. Tell Ron and Harry I said hi."

"Okay."

Hermione turned back towards the classroom only to see Professor Kirkland staring blankly out the window. Silently walking back into the room, Hermione gasped in surprise when she saw the professor begin to glow and _melt_. The professor continued to melt, or whatever you'd call it, until there was a puddle of glittering powder on the floor.

Hesitantly, Hermione tried to pick up the object, a glowing golden substance, but it slipped through her fingers like sand. However, this sand-like material was cool and felt like water to the touch, but was as delicate as a spider web and with each touch, it floated away like disturbed dust particles.

"What is this?"

Unsure about what to do, Hermione took a pouch out of her bag and began to scoop in as much of the glowing substance as she could.

'I_ need to show this to Harry and Ron! What just happened? Was the professor not here? Or… Or does he not exist! What if he _does _work for You-Know-Who!'_

**II**

Arthur frowned, the nerve of Peeves, attacking him like that. Arthur sighed and pulled out his Monday timetable, seeing that his next… three classes were History of Magic classes. Arthur frowned; wizards seemed so uninterested by the 'Muggles' as they so called them.

He was currently in his (other) classroom; he had had already rearranged the seats from their column and rows to a circular fashion. He found that the seats positioned like that gave the students a clearer view of who was in their class as they all could see everyone's faces.

He also had the room filled with flags from countries he was well associated with, just along the high of the wall on little platforms one would find to be cute. The only flags absent from his little collection were the blasted frog, the corpulent git, and the vodka-drinking bastard. Like he'd want them to visit him if they found out where he was.

That was the only reason he placed the flags in his rooms, seeing that Muggle electronics couldn't work inside Hogwarts grounds (for now). If one of his fellow countries needed to contact him (or vice versa), they could country-jump through the portals — the flags.

He also had the room personalized to his own liking so that it wasn't so drab and institutional. It held small things like books, tea-sets, photos (which were set on his desk, away from prying students' eyes), and his lovely sets of unicorn and faerie figurines. If he was going to be in this room for the most-part, he may as well be comfortable in it.

It was time for the students to go to their next period, and he soon found students shuffling into his class and taking their seats as Arthur was at his clipboard, checking the students present as each took his or her seat. He loved his country-ability to automatically be aware of whom he was around because he would know that all his students were present in class. (However, he frowned when he saw that Malfoy was in his class. To have to deal with him so early in the day…)

"Okay class, take out your books. I need to see them." Arthur ordered, watching his students, and Malfoy, take out their books.

He walked around to double-check the books, and then nodded. Alright, now everyone take out your wands."

He watched each of his students unsurely take out their wands and held them out.

"Okay, now, I want you to wave your wands towards your books and say these words, "V_erbatim ac litteratim*_."

The class, with a twirl of their wands pointed towards their book, muttered the phrase and many jumped from surprise when each of their books turned into a dark leather-bound book. The students gaped at their books before picking them up and leafing through them.

"What bloody trick is this, Kirkland!" Malfoy demanded, looking bitterly at Arthur.

"Ten points from Slytherin." Arthur informed, various Slytherins frowning and looking confused about the development.

"Why did you dock off points? We _just_ got here." Malfoy asked, looking quite annoyed.

"A boy, as well as all men, should behave like a gentlemen, like myself. Additionally, a young girl should have lady-like qualities. It's much more refined." Arthur informed, writing _'Professor Kirkland'_ on the black board.

Malfoy jeered.

"Enough, Malfoy." Arthur deadpanned.

A girl raised her hand up. "What happened to our books? I mean, I know they're… they're like journals and such… but why?"

"Well, you're going to write in them, of course. I thought it was rather obvious." Arthur commented, placing his hand under his chin in thought.

"We're going to _write_ in them? Are you insane? There's like, more than three hundred pages in here!" Malfoy protested.

"Unlike reading it, writing down the information makes a better connection to the brain, as reading it can go only so far in education. And besides, the books are _hardly_ accurate. If you're going to learn something, you should _at least_ learn it _right_." Arthur explained. _'Children these days. Absolutely no work-effort anymore…'_

"And how are we going to do _that,_" Malfoy sneered. "When the books are no longer existent and _'wrong'_."

Arthur smirked and leered at Malfoy, his mouth twitching in annoyance at the white-haired boy. "Well, I'm going to teach you, of course."

"How?" A boy asked, "Sorry, but what do _you_ know about magic, or its history."

Arthur gave the boy a mischievous look and an impish grin._ "Everything."_

Malfoy quirked an eyebrow and took note of Professor Kirkland's rather odd behavior and how he, seemingly, never took the attendance.

**III**

After Arthur was done teaching his second period, where he excitedly told them about the legends of how the magical kind came to be, explained Stellintra* and Astreso* and how the magical society used to cope peacefully with the non-magical society (as well as ignoring Malfoy's rude retorts), he dismissed the class to their next period, telling them the next time they came to class he'd continue on from when he had stopped.

While his students shuffled out of his class, he took out his timetable and saw that he had no third period, extending his time for lunch. Seeing that he had nothing to do, Arthur set out to the halls and began to wander about, wondering where his lovely Excalibur had gone too. When Arthur had woken up that morning, he found Excalibur gone and began frantically searching for the cat; it was also the reason why he was late for his first period.

_'Where could that rascal be? He's not hurt, is he?"_

"Need some assistance, Professor?"

Arthur jumped from the sudden statement and whirled around to see Dumbledore, holding Excalibur in his hands.

"Excalibur!" Arthur exclaimed, trotting towards the purring feline and carefully taking him from Dumbledore's hands. "Where did you find him? He was gone all morning and I was so worried."

Dumbledore only chuckled. "I found him in the kitchen being pampered by the house-elves, feeding him all the fish he could nibble on."

Arthur blushed. "Oh. I'm truly sorry about that."

"Not at all, they were quite taken by the pussy-cat*."

Arthur gave a weary smile. "If you say so…"

"Well, take care. I'll see you later in the Great Hall." And with that, Dumbledore waved his hand goodbye and wandered off into the halls, leaving Arthur all alone with Excalibur.

After a while of standing in the halls petting Excalibur, Arthur smiled and looked at the purring feline. Placing the cat down, he knelt down by the kitty and pointed a finger at it. _"Now, knowing that you're safe, I can leave now. But don't you get into trouble, do you understand?"_

Excalibur meowed and stared blankly at Arthur, who nodded in content.

It was then, after he nodded, that Arthur began to glow until it became too radiant for Excalibur and he fled away. Arthur began to dissolve and a flowing golden substance began to float and drift to the floor, acting like water, yet still like a soft, delicate powder that had a pure blazing shine.

While all this happened, Dumbledore watched the scene occur from behind a corridor. Seeing that Arthur was no more, Dumbledore walked over to the mysterious puddle and knelt down. He placed a hand in the fine golden particles and noted the odd matter. Summoning up a small white pouch, he waved his wand over the matter and the golden particles began floating into the pouch. Sealing up the pouch, Dumbledore placed it into his robe and he began to walk away, humming a small happy tune.

**IV**

Arthur cursed as he tripped over webbed-roots as he walked down a trail lined with mold and moss. _'Rossi, how can you let this place go to such waste?'_ Arthur grabbed onto a withering tree as he lost balance when he slipped on wobbly rocks. _'Really, Rossi, this place is falling apart! Such a tragedy… It's like he's trying to keep people away… Wait — it seems as if Peeves has discovered that I'm at Hogwarts, the gall he has to bring up Alfred of all people!'_

Arthur picked up his speed, running around and dodging trees and potholes. However, as he jumped over a dugout, he slipped and fell into a puddle of mud. As he tried to move, cursing at how filthy his clothes had got, Arthur felt like he was sinking, and quickly began to panic.

"Rossi! You wanker! Quicksand!"

He arched his head when he heard shuffling in the forest, his fear fading away when he saw centaurs lurking in the shadows.

"Please! Help me!" He called out, hoping one had a heart. Centaurs were very proud beings, or "beasts" as they preferred, and didn't like humankind, or wizard-kind, that much, even if he wasn't one. Even if he was a nation, many creatures did their absolute best to resist national magic, even if they didn't know what it was. Plus, none would stoop low enough to help a Muggle or wizard in need.

"Please! I know you're out there! I know you're out there! All of you!" Arthur began to kick out his limbs as he sunk lower into the pit, "Ronan!"

One of the centaurs stopped and revealed itself in front of Arthur; Ronan. "How do you know my name? I have never meet or seen you before now."

"I can't — very well explain — that!" Arthur huffed, trying to push away the mucky sand.

Ronan lost interest in Arthur and went back to his cryptic group.

"Please! Do you know the red-haired man that lives here?"

Ronan stopped and turned his head towards Arthur, "Yes, what of him?"

"That man is my brother. Please, could you help me?"

"No." With that, Ronan and his group left Arthur to his misery.

_'Cor* blimey… They've become so hateful…'_

Arthur began to tear up; he had nothing to grab onto. Everything was slimy, disgusting and grotesque. Wallowing in his dismay, he heard a soft whinnies, along with tinkling bells and giggles. Looking up, Arthur smiled and blinked away tears.

_"Flying_ _Mint Bunny! Uni! Miss Faerie! You've come to help me!"_

_"Of course! We love you!" _Flying Mint Bunny exclaimed as she twirled around Arthur, her voice high and cheery.

_"We'd never want you to be harmed."_ Uni explained as she floated above Arthur, her voice ever-so soft, smooth and elegant.

_"Now, let's stop this chin-wagging and get to saving you!"_ Miss Faerie cried out cheerfully with a flutter of her wings.

"_Can you grab onto me, Master England?"_ Uni asked, getting closer to England.

England reached out his hands and took hold of Uni's hooves, _"Yes, I can."_

_"Hold on tight, Master England."_ Uni ordered as she began to fly upward.

Grunting, Arthur saw that he was too deep in the quicksand and began to seep some on his magic into it, loosening its grip on him. Miss Faerie began to help and use magic to lift up England.

_"Ah! Miss Faerie, you don't need to do that!"_ Arthur said.

Miss Faerie laughed. _"I want to help too, Master England! Uni can't have all the fun!"_

England only laughed in response and before long, he was out of the quicksand.

_"Ta*, you guys. You were all so helpful."_ England smiled.

_"Yay! Now, aren't you forgetting something?" _Flying Mint Bunny inquired, looking at England with a playful grin.

England grinned and placed a kiss on top of all their heads._ "No, I don't think I've forgotten anything."_

The Fae Trio let out their giggles and disappeared in wherever it was they went, calling out. _"Just call whenever you need us! Okay, Master England?"_

_"Okay! Bye, you three! Behave yourselves!"_ Arthur said, waving goodbye as they left. It was only a moment before he realized how filthy he'd gotten during his venture into the woods. "Damn you, Scotland and your damn forest!"

_'I really liked this suit, too! Why is it that Scotland makes me walk through this bloody forest to get to his home? I could just fucking country-jump, but _no_, Scotland such an arse he doesn't even place my flag in his home! Bloody wanker! Oh! Excalibur's safe! I must give Dumbledore something to really show my gratitude for finding Excalibur… '_

England took out his wand from his tweed jacket and waved it around and the gunk on his clothes dispatched themselves and any tear in the suit had disappeared, as if they never were. Putting away his wand, Arthur continued on his walk through the forest. Taking turns and up and down rutty slopes, England was going further and further into the forest, which became gloomier and darker than ever, and he was starting to feel more creatures lurking about.

_'I should be getting there soon.'_ England thought as he hopped over a fallen log; however, as he hopped over it, something grabbed him — the tree.

The tree then stood up and was holding England by the leg, carelessly swinging him as it walked heavily on the ground.

"Let me go, you big lug!" England yelled as he punched at the great, splintery beast. Either the tree didn't have enough intelligence to form a sentence or it chose to ignore England and his ranting.

_'This is very annoying! And damn, this hurts! This tosser's going to dislocate my leg or something!'_ England thought, clumsily reaching for his wand in his pocket. However, the inevitable happened. England dropped his wand.

"No!"

As the tree walked further away, England's wand became less and less visible. "Drop me this instant, you bloody wanker!"

Again, the tree ignored him and England's panic grew exponentially. Frantically, he looked back at his barely visible wand and called out for it, but found that he could no longer see it. It was gone.

It was then that England's rage got the better of him and he began to weave a spell for the beast. _"Encen—"_

Before England could finish his spell, he heard someone yell, "Stop yer cryin', yeh wee babeh."

"Scotland! Get over here, you fucking wanker! You gobshitting bastard! You —" England continued on his ranting and cursing like the scurvy riddled pirate he used to be.

Scotland, otherwise known as Rossi Kirkland in certain circumstances, was England's oldest brother. Like the rest of the Kirkland family, he had unruly hair and unique bushy brows; however, they were not as severe as England's, nor was he a blonde. Scotland had dark red hair that seemed to be saturated with colour. (He claimed to be a _red-head_, not a _ginger_.) Like England, he had pale skin and green eyes; however, they were more of a bluish-green than a pure green like England's. He, annoyingly enough, was also taller than England. He was clad in a large gray T-shirt and blue jeans and looked to be 26 years of age.

"Enough o' yeh cryin', oaf. What's wit' yeh?"

"My wand's gone because you — you damned bastard! Do you know what'll happen if —"

"Oh, do me a favo' an' shuddup. Realleh, yer such a cry babeh."

"Bastard! I'll kill you! Let me down so I can murder the fucking daylights out of you!"

"Yeh don't know how ter lis'en, do yeh?" Scotland sighed, snapping his fingers.

The tree responded to the snap of Scotland's fingers and released England, who landed with a _THUD_. For a while, England sat on the grimy land, wincing and tending to his sore wounds. As he was doing so, Scotland began to cackle.

England looked up at his brother. "And what, I dare ask, is so bloody-fucking hilarious?"

"Sorreh, sorreh. It's just a thought crossed me mind."

"And may I ask as to what it is?"

"No, yeh'll find out soon enough. Now, if yeh done touching yehself, Ah best be on me way."

"You fuckard! I am not touching myself!"

"Ay call it like Ay see it." Scotland laughed, waving his hands dismissively.

"Bastard! I'm still furious at you! My wand is _missing_ and you're acting like it's nothing!? What the hell is wrong with you?"

Scotland only shrugged. "Hey, tell yeh what. If Ay see it aroun', Ay'll give it ter yeh, 'kay?"

"We have to start looking for it! Don't you bloody-fucking understand!" England raged. "I can't go around waiting for you to just see it on a bloody walk around the park!"

"Oh, shuddup. Anyway, what're yeh here fo'?"

England gave Scotland a blank look before remembering his reason for the awful trip. "Ah, yes. Why'd you let this forest become such a rubbish-ridden filth land?"

"How insulting." Scotland huffed. "Ay've got me reasons fer doing so."

"You're hiding Nelly here, aren't you?" Arthur deadpanned. Scotland visibly grimaced.

"…That may be one of teh reasons…"

England sighed, "She's going to mess up the ecosystem here. I'm surprised the merfolk haven't complained yet, seeing that they eat most of the same foods…"

"The Muggle-kin' won't stop harass'n her! What am Ay supposed ter do? Let her be constan'ly both'red by the human folk until they capt're her? Absolutely not!"

England sighed, "Well, that's what you get for being careless."

"Anyway, yeh want ter come ove' me house? Ay've got somethin' fer yeh, Ay was goin' ter give it ter yeh through Hogwarts' owl-post, but seeing that yer here, why not give it ter yeh now?" Scotland offered, changing the subject.

"Why not, you owe me anyway…" England sulked.

"Shuddup about that already yeh broken record!"

**V**

As the English man followed the Scottish man to the cryptic location of his home, Scotland decided to clear up any unease that Arthur might have been feeling, "Just over the mote an' we'll be there. Ah, careful. Ay need ter fix the bridge, the foundation is breakin' loose."

"It's like you're trying to kill anyone who comes near, especially me. So many safety violations… A murky lake around your island of a house, a craggy bridge… Wait! Nelly's in the mote, isn't she!?"

Scotland shrugged. "Ay like her ter be close ter me. _Nelly! Come're, lassie!_"

England looked over to the water overgrown with algae, and soon saw the water ripple and a massive, slender creature appeared. Nelly was a scaly creature. Her skin, with its glossy green-metallic sheen, was decorated with slim, festive designs of a multitude of colors that speckled her massive body. Her eyes were sleek and watery, and of course, silver.

Nelly — the Emblem* of Scotland.

Nelly lowered her head to Scotland and he began to happily pet the Emblem. _"Such a good lass yeh are."_

"Enough of that already, you one-track minded wanker!" England barked. As England took a step forward to smack Scotland, the walkway under him gave way and he plummeted through the bridge and into the smudgy waters below. "God, I hate this bloody forest so fucking much!"

"Yer such a drama queen. Next thin' yeh know, yer in drag. Oh wait, never min', yeh already do it in yer we'rd sex games." Scotland said with a laugh.

"Shut up, you fucking tosser!" England fumed.

England swam to the bank of Scotland's home and utilized his magic in order to remove the slimy filth from the septic water and dry himself up. _'Disgusting! Absolutely revolting! I hate how this lovely forest became such a… a land fill!'_

_"Alrigh' Nelly, Ay'll play wit' yeh la'er, 'kay? Got ter deal wit' this mess ove' here."_ Scotland said while pointing over to England with a grieving sigh, which irritated England to the point of breaking.

_'Bastard! If only I could kill you!_' England thought with annoyance. "Hurry up, damn it!"

Scotland only ignored England and walked past the shorter man and over to the house before him, which was seemingly out of place.

Scotland's house was a small, cozy, but modern, cottage. Faded red bricks with a crack here and there and a hard-wood door lined with dark-gray stone. The windows were edged with the same stones and green vines worked their way up the walls. The stone roof was a russet color and the flowering vines seemed to invade there as well. Along the patches of grass that surrounded the island-house were small, budding flowers.

The two men entered the house and England noted the furniture change since the last time he visited. Instead of furniture that matched with this seemingly homey house, there was furniture that would match the times of the current years. Modern electronics were about the house and the walls were redesigned from a pale white to soft cream-tan wallpaper with blue-green highlights. The couches and chairs corresponded with one another with their bottle-green fabric and polished creamy wood border. The counter tops also had a change in design. Instead of the old limestone counter top; it was now a granite counter top with a new buffed-up stainless-steel sink.

"I see you've redecorated you're house." England commented, looking around.

"Yeah. Ay thought it'd be nice fer a change, the ol' look got so plain. Got tiring ter look at, yeh know?" Scotland said, looking over to England.

"Yeah, I know. It's kind of why I went to Hogwarts really." England said.

"Ter get bette' at yer magic 'cause it sucks?" Scotland snickered.

"Bastard! You know what I mean! And my magic is fine, thank you very much!" England fumed, only causing his older brother to laugh.

England huffed and looked away, counting to ten in order to resist a massive urge to bash his brother's skull in.

"Anyway, what was it that you supposedly wanted to give me? If it's just to annoy the hell out of me, you're doing a damn good job of it!"

"Greedy, greedy!" Scotland laughed, earning a glare from England. "Hold on, it's in me study. Don't get yer panties in a twist." Scotland then left for a room in a nearby hall and entered it, closing the door behind him.

England flushed. "I'm not wearing panties, you wanker!"

"Woah! Ter much info'mation you wee babeh! Don't need ter know yer free-fallin'!" Scotland cackled from within the room.

"Bloody wanker!" England fumed. "You know fucking well what I mean!"

Scotland emerged from his study holding a small object in his hand. "Calm down, ye wee fuckface. Ay'm only messin' wit' yeh."

"Well, it's bloody-right annoying. Now, what is that?"

"Ay can't tell yeh. Think of it as a gif' from yer lovely brothe's. Of course, France did _all_ the wrappin' and tyin'. We got it together this mornin'." Scotland then handed England a small box that was the size of his palm.

The box was blue with white stars all over. Tied around the box was a lacy red and white ribbon fastened into a large cutesy bow. England thought the box was quite odd. It had a peculiar, obscure aura emitting from it, it was almost nostalgic, which was rather odd…

"This little thing? If it's another of your daft Moaning Master Minis* disguised in whatever form you placed them in, I will not hesitate to kill you."

"No, no, it's not. Hey, shouldn't yeh be at Hogwarts righ' now? No wonder yer timin' here is rathe' odd." Scotland inquired.

"Not to worry. I summoned up some Angel Dust Doppelgängers to take care of my early duties. Though I should probably go back now… Peeves helped destroy one and the other finished his mission in finding Excalibur." England explained.

"Excalibu'?" Scotland asked.

"He's my new pussy." England said nonchalantly as Scotland stifled a laugh.

"I kner yeh mean cat, but still, it's quite funny when yeh say the word so calmleh!" Scotland laughed.

England scoffed, _'So immature!'_ Absentmindedly, England looked at the small box and was about untie the little present before Scotland's hand shot over and grabbed England's wrist.

"What the —"

"Don't open it jus' yet, 'kay! Open it wit' Peeves at lunch-time, 'kay?" Scotland insisted.

England gave Scotland a confused look. "Okay…?"

Scotland smiled, but it looked slightly more like a concealed smirk.

England pocketed the small gift and sighed, "Well, I'll be taking my leave now. I only wanted to see why this place turned into such a crappy waste of land… Make sure you _find_ my wand; I can't be without it."

"Hey! Don't go aroun' insultin' people's homes!" Scotland growled.

England ignored his brother's outburst and began to scan for portals. Concentrating deeply, he located his portal in his Muggle Studies classroom. He selected and opened up the portal, and to only him, he saw a scene that might have resembled a view from a security camera in his classroom. To any other country, they would have only seen a dark abyss (this side of the portal was known as Melahod*) the size of a door. Carefully stepping through it, England took a step forward and the gray-scale room became a colorized picture and the vibrant void behind him (this side was known as Luxitiner*) returned to its regular size as the English flag.

**VI**

England double-checked his attire and such to make sure all was how it should be, and when he thought that he was presentable, began to walk to the Great Hall. Walking to the staff dining table, England spotted a seat next to Hagrid, and he walked over to the seat and looked at him, "Is this seat taken?"

Hagrid smiled through his shaggy beard. "No, yeh can take it. It's Kirklan', righ'?"

"Yes, but you may address me as Arthur." Arthur said as he sat down.

"Well, it's nice ter meet yeh, Arthur. Rubeus Hagrid at yer service, but yeh can jus' call me Rubeus." Hagrid said with a hefty laugh.

The men shook hands and Dumbledore gave all in the Great Hall his consent to start the grand meal. Arthur was about to eat when he heard a small "Meow" from behind and saw that it was Excalibur. Smiling knowingly, Arthur placed a small tray of fish on the floor for the little fur ball. However, as he did so, the small box from his brother fell out of his pocket and gave a muffled cry.

Arthur picked up the box, inspecting it, _'Did this box just…yelp? No, I'm imagining things… Oh, yes. Rossi told me to open this at lunch-time with Peeves… I wonder what it is… It shouldn't be a prank, right? No, it's also for Peeves, so it wouldn't be a prank… Though I wonder….'_

"What's that, Arthur?" Hagrid asked.

"Oh, this? It's a gift from my brothers… and the frog." Arthur explained, placing the gift in his pocket.

"Ah, that's nice..." Hagrid commented before taking a bite of spotted dick*.

"Yes, though I'm supposed to open it with Peeves…"

"Peeves? I thought it was for you? Hagrid asked.

"Well, yes, but my brother told me I had to open it with Peeves. I have no idea why, though. Hey, now that I think about it, I haven't seen that blasted poltergeist since this morning." Arthur said as he began to mumble information Hagrid couldn't make out.

Arthur placed the tiny gift into his pocket when suddenly all of those in the Great Hall turned their heads towards boisterous yelling that emitted from the halls.

"Ahoy, there! Man of the Red Ensign! Privateer Kirkland ahoy! Scourge of the seven seas! Land-ho!"* Peeves bellowed as he flew up to Arthur, laughing. "A little parrot told me that a Captain Kirkland needed his First Mate!"

Arthur frowned. "Enough of _that_ Peeves. And yes, I do need you. We have a gift from my brothers and the frog."

Peeves clapped and the two seemed to ignore the curious stares from the students and part of the staff, Dumbledore wearing a happy grin.

"Oh! Gimme, gimme!" Peeves whined, a smile spreading across his face.

"Just hold on." Arthur said, grabbing the gift from his pocket; however, he was unable to as Peeves greedily snatched the object away from Arthur.

"Oh! Pretty! Oh! Farewell, ribbon! To the floor you go!" With that, Peeves unraveled the ribbon and tossed it into the air; however, he yelped when the box began to grow and Peeves dropped the now-massive garnished box, which oddly, yelped back.

For a bit, everyone just stared at the box and Arthur went over to the box and grasped the fallen ribbon and looked at the card attach. Arthur noted wording on the card and inwardly read the words, "_TO OUR BELOVED EROTIC AMBASSADOR, YOUR NEW S&M TOY"_.

Wait.

WHAT!?

Arthur froze and gawked at the card, then to the box Peeves that was about to open.

"Peeves, don't you dare open that box! Do you understand!?" Arthur shouted. Peeves only beamed back.

"Nope, I don't!"

Peeves grabbed the box and he began to fly about laughing. When he stopped, he opened up the box and tossed away the lid, screaming from whatever was inside the box…

**i**

_**Muggles: Struggle and Survival without Magic***_** — a [made-up] book that talks about the ways Muggles lived without magic by invention objects and using electricity.**

**tickety-boo* — English phrase; something that is going well with no problems at all**

_**Verbatim ac litteratim**_*** — Latin; meaning "word for word and letter for letter". This [made-up] spell turns any book into a wordless-parchment, dark leather-bound book with a lacey ribbon that differs with each caster. Anytime the book's pages are almost used up, the book will add more pages that are needed to the book's owner. After casting the spell, the caster will notice their name engraved in silver along the spine of the book, work as its title, and inside the leaf-page of the book, hold's the phrase, **_**"Property of: *caster's name*"**_** The spell is permanent to the book.**

**Stellintra* — (just in case you've forgotten) Latin; stell: star; intra: within, inner; meaning "star within". Stellintra can only be referred to organic beings or animated beings like creatures and humanoids. A Stellintra being, for example, can be a wizard or fairyor unicorn.**

**Astreso* — (just in case you've forgotten) Greek; astr, astro: star; eso: within; meaning "star within". Astreso can only be referred to inorganic beings or inanimate beings like a rock or water.**

**pussy-cat* — I was originally going to just say "pussy", but seeing some [people] might get offended, I put in pussy-cat. So… Pussy — what the English call their cats, aka "pussy-cat" for the non-English.**

**Ta* — English phrase; short for "thanks".**

**Melahod* — Greek: melan- dark, black; hodo- path, gateway; meaning "dark/bright path/gateway"**

**Luxitiner* — Latin: luc- bright, light; itiner-route, way; meaning "bright/light route"**

**spotted dick* — an English dessert.**

**Red Ensign* — Pirate jargon for the British flag**

**Privateer* — Pirate jargon for Government-authorized pirates by permission of a letter of marque (a government license to attack and sack enemy ships)**

**Scourge of the seven seas* — Pirate jargon for a evil, malicious pirate**

**ii**

**Ha, Cliffhanger! And now you guys hate me Owo**

**I'm sorry for hollowtearsofjoy, my lovely Beta, for slaving over this to Beta it. Hopefully, I didn't make too much mistakes, otherwise…**

**n(;A;)n  
>I'M SO SORRY!<br>n(QnQ)n**

**iii**

**Also, although this chapter was a solo-dedication, my lovely story-followers, I love you all! (I just make promises.) ewe**

**Love,  
>DeiDeiArtistic<strong>


	5. Man with the Power? Part 2

**Harry Potter and the Man of Britannia**

**Chapter 4**

**Man with the Power?**

**Part 2**

**DeiDeiArtistic: Second half of the fourth chapter~! Hope you enjoy!**

**Sole Chapter Dedication: Fall in the Void**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or Harry Potter or their characters; they belong to their rightful owners.  
>Claimer: I own this story plot, Peeves' song, Rossi Kirkland, Nelly, and what obviously isn't from Hetalia or Harry Potter.<strong>

*****  
>WARNING: Part I rated M for sexual-related content.<br>Part II is rated T for sexual innuendo.  
>Viewer discretion is advised.<br>*****

**I**

"**A**h! Arthur's little one! Alfie's back! Alfie's back!" Peeves cried with joy, twirling around in the air, the box in hand.

As soon as Arthur heard Peeves cry out those words, his body failed to move as he stood in place, paralyzed from shock, mouth ajar. The only thing running through his mind was: _"Alfie's back!"_ He also remembered the card's words. Taking the rather questionable message into consideration, it was certain that whatever state Alfred was in, it was certainly not meant for young, or anyone's, eyes.

"Alfie, since you're back, I'll sing you a song!"

Peeves cleared his throat (if he had one) and began to slowly swing the box to-and-fro.

_Rock-a-bye Alfie in this huge box,_

_Bounded and gagged with colorful knots._

_Strapped up tightly with lacy ribbons,_

_Why in this form, not a thing is hidden._

_Though, one sleek bow ventures down south,_

_And wrapped around his big —_

"Peeves! That's quite enough!" Arthur shouted as he blasted a bolt of lightning towards the box and Peeves. Peeves screeched and dropped the box, causing whatever was inside the box to almost tumble out, but Arthur flung himself over the box's opening.

Arthur knew his face was turning a bright shade of pink, if the familiar feeling was anything to go by. Right now, he also knew that everyone in the Great Hall was staring dumbly at him and the oh-so-mysterious box. However, he didn't care at the moment. All he had to figure out was just how to leave while pretending a candle was his wand.

It was when he felt something poke at his stomach that he gave a small yelp. Hesitantly, Arthur carefully peered into the box, and his face flushed several shades of red. Inside the box was Alfred, but certainly not how he normally saw him.

Alfred was staring angrily up at Arthur; pure sky blue eyes glaring detestably at him as watery tears threaten to fall. Around Alfred's mouth was a black, leathery muzzle with chains hanging down that were attached to a studded black dog collar. Alfred's bare body was draped in twine in an exotic manner and the shackles on his wrists seemed to be chained to the collar. Alfred's arms were tied behind his back and his wrists were shackled together along with his ankles — his knees doubled-over so that he could sit somewhat comfortably in the box.

Arthur covered his colored face and mumbled into his hand, still peering at Alfred through his digits.

Alfred, as best as he could, shouted something at Arthur, but all he could make out was _"Mahhick!?"_

Oh, _magic_.

Arthur took out his "wand" (aka a candle from the staff table) and awkwardly placed his arm into the box and tapped Alfred's body, causing whatever hex that was placed over the restraints to lift, allowing Alfred to break them using whatever strength he had. Arthur removed his arm from the box and awkwardly maneuvered to make sure no one was able to get a clear view of the box's contents.

Seeing that both of them were in a rather problematic situation, Alfred quietly whispered from the box, "Iggy, I _so_ want to fucking _kill_ your brothers, you bastard!"

"What! How am _I_ at fault?" Arthur hissed back.

"Because you and your —" Alfred was unable to complete his sentence as a sudden moan slipped out from his mouth. Alfred's eyes widened and his hands slapped over his mouth.

Arthur felt his ears redden when he heard Alfred moan. '_Oh God, this isn't happening.'_

"What the —" Again, Alfred moaned and cupped his mouth from shock.

"Oh God, Alfred! Shut up! Shut up! Please do shut up!" Arthur cried, bringing his hands over his face in embarrassment. "You ate the Moaning Minis! _You ate the Moaning Minis!"_

Arthur felt as if he could die at that exact moment. This was just too much! He hated his brothers and the frog for doing this! It was all planned! The gift wasn't actually for Peeves _and_ him, it was only just for him and Peeves was just a distraction for Arthur so that he _didn't_ think it was a trick! But it was. To every last drop it was! Peeves was also, in every way possible, involved in the dirty plan as much as his brothers and the frog were! He was what would set off the gunfire that Arthur (and Alfred) got mixed up in.

However, Arthur heard footsteps approaching from behind, and he carefully turned his head to see Dumbledore, who was holding a rather large cloth embroidered with a lavish design.

"Would you like this?" Dumbledore grinned, a knowing look about him.

It was then that Arthur felt compelled to just cry in joy as the great man Dumbledore was about to help him from obtaining any more embarrassment.

"Yes, please!" Arthur cried (which seemed slightly, if not, pitiful).

Dumbledore walked over to Arthur and handed him the blanket in hand, so that Arthur did not have to extend his arm. Arthur held the textile with both hands and with a swift movement, covered the box and Alfred with it.

Arthur saw Alfred grab the hem of the fabric and pull it down towards him in order to cover himself up. Arthur moved away from the box seeing that he didn't have to be Alfred's cover anymore and rubbed a hand over his stomach, wincing from the way the edge of the box had previously prodded itself coarsely again his skin.

"Careful when you get up, you git." Arthur whispered. "The last thing I need is for you to trip over yourself."

"Go to hell Arthur!" Alfred sulked, letting out a low moan as he slowly stood up, the blanket swaying slightly from the movement.

"Shut up! Do you want anyone to hear that? They'll think you be some exhibitionist!"

"Go fuck yourse— ha-ah!"

"Calm down you nitwit or you're going to keep— doing that!" Arthur flushed as Alfred bit his lips. By now, both their cheeks were a glowing red. After a moment of two as Alfred tried to calm himself down, he finally spoke.

"Um, could you… Kinda help with the box? Like, get rid of it?"

Arthur looked at the box and saw that it reached up to Alfred's knees, and if he were to step over it… He'd be flashing a lot of innocent eyes.

"Oh! Er — yes." Arthur stuttered, waving his "wand" at the box, and with a poof, it turned into a pillow with a Union Jack design.

Alfred clutched the fabric tighter, feeling very self-conscience at the moment, because everyone had their heads turned towards him — and he was clad in only a piece of cloth that sagged to the floor. Looking at Arthur hesitantly, he opened his mouth, hoping that what left were words and not moans. "Um... could we go to your room, Iggy?"

"Ah, yes… just follow me." Arthur said, exiting the Great Hall with Alfred warily following from behind.

"Arthur… Can we never talk about this? Ever?"

"We won't Alfred."

**II**

After Professor Kirkland and the mysterious man, or "Alfie" as Peeves had called him, had left, everyone merely gaped at where the two had been. Everybody was slightly, if not extremely, curious about this "Alfie" Peeves was so happy about, and what his song meant. It was soon when all the students began to whisper about what had just happened and the teachers resumed eating, as if ignoring the odd incident, but still quietly thinking about it.

Harry and Ron stared at the pillow on the floor with perplexed looks plastered on their faces.

"I don't understand the lot of it. What just happened?" Ron finally said.

"I'm not sure," Harry said, still staring at the pillow. "I just know that Professor Kirkland looked as if he could die on the spot."  
>"What do you reckon, 'Mione?" Ron asked.<p>

"That that man is _too_ old to be one of Professor Kirkland's sons. He looked as if he was in his late teens or early twenties, and Professor Kirkland only looks to be somewhere in his twenties!" Hermione stated.

Ron and Harry gave her confused looks.

"What are you talking about? Nobody said anything about Professor Kirkland having sons." Ron said, looking at Hermione as if she had lost her mind.

"Peeves did. He did twice when I was in Muggles Studies with Professor Kirkland!" Hermione fumed.

Harry and Ron exchanged worried looks.

"Harry, I think she's gone completely nuts! What's she talking about? She hasn't even _gone_ to Muggle Studies yet!" Ron whispered.

"I heard that!" Hermione huffed. "Peeves said to Professor Kirkland 'Where are Arthur's little ones?' and Professor Kirkland became so mad that he ended class early!"

"Hermione, are you alright?" Harry asked.

"Yes, I am!" Hermione hissed, her cheeks turning pink.

Again, this statement did nothing as Harry and Ron seemed more worried than before. It was when Hermione remembered the gold powdery substance that she gasped.

"Look, I've got proof! After class ended, I'm not really sure myself what had happened, but Professor Kirkland melted into _this_!"

She took out the pouch and tossed it over to Harry, who sat in front of her with Ron to his left. Harry opened the pouch and saw the glowing golden substance. He placed his hand into the pouch and picked up the substance, only to see it fall and float around like soft dust with a cool touch.

"What is that?" Ron asked, looking at the golden essence.

"I don't know, but it so odd, isn't it?" Hermione said.

"What do you have there, mate?" asked none other than George Weasley (or Fred for that matter) who walked over to Harry.

"I don't know. Hermione brought it here." Harry confessed.

"Yeah, she says Professor Kirkland melted into this stuff." Ron snickered.

Hermione puffed her cheeks, "He did! I know what I saw! He started glowing vibrantly and then melted into — into… into _that_!"

"George, did you hear that? The bloke started 'glowing vibrantly'! Sounds like Hermione's got a crush on the teach!" Fred laughed.

Hermione flushed, "I-I do not! That's what happened!"

"Ha! She's embarrassed!" The Weasley twins laughed as Hermione huffed and crossed her arms.

"So, who do you reckon that bloke in the blanket really is?" Ron asked.

"I don't know, but did you see the look on the Professor's face? It was as red as a tomato!" Fred exclaimed.

"I wonder what was so embarrassing for him to act like that." Harry said, looking at the glittery powder before sneezing. The powder quickly flew everywhere and the air began to sparkle and shimmer with the golden particles.

"Oh! That's so pretty!" said a female voice. Turning around, Harry saw that it was Ginny.

"Oh, hello Ginny." Harry said, grabbing a napkin to wipe off the rest of the dust from his hand.

"What is that? Glitter?" Ginny asked, looking at the sparkly dust that still lingered in the air. Strangely, the dust seemed to act like water in space.

"Um, no. I don't think so. Hermione found it." Harry said, giving Hermione her pouch with the remaining dust back.

"Where?" Ginny asked, looking at Hermione.

"In Professor Kirkland's classroom, the Muggle Studies one." Hermione informed.

"Oh," Ginny said. "Do you know what it is?"

"No." Hermione said, sadden by the fact. "But I'm going to research it."

"Hello? Does anyone know who the tall bloke in the blanket is?" Ron asked, slightly annoyed since no one had answered his question yet. "Actually, why was he in a blanket?"

Hermione and Ginny blushed. "Didn't you listen to Peeves' — er — song?"

Harry, Ron and the Weasley Twins gave the girls blank looks.

"What's the song have to do with that?" Ron asked.

"Actually, I didn't pay much attention to it." George admitted, Fred nodding in agreement.

"I didn't really understand it." Harry confessed.

"Do I… Do I actually have to spell it out?" Hermione asked, horrified.

"Yes! I don't understand what was so bad about it." Ron exasperated.

"Well… Let's start with what Peeves said before he started singing." Ginny said.

"_Ah! Arthur's little one! Alfie's back! Alfie's back!"_

The boys though for a moment, taking in the phrase and analyzing it carefully. It was only a matter of time before Ron spoke up.

"Well, Alfie is Arthur's little one. But, he can't mean son… The bloke's too old to be a son."

"Maybe he's the Professor's little brother?" Fred suggested, thinking of another possibility.

"But isn't 'little one' normally another way to say someone's child?" Harry interjected, finding the error of Fred's logic.

"Okay, so they're somehow related." George finalized.

"Now that we have that covered, let's start with the first phrase Peeves sang." Hermione added.

_Rock-a-bye Alfie in this huge box,_

_Bounded and gagged with colorful knots._

"So, Alfie was obviously in the box," Fred said, "Because he stood up from it covered by the blanket."

"Bounded and gagged with colorful knots… So he was tied up and placed in the box." Harry continued.

"Okay, you're in the right track." Ginny commented, her face beginning to flush. "Now, the next phrase he, um, sang..."

_Strapped up tightly with lacy ribbons,_

_Why in this form, not a thing is hidden._

"So, he's tied up tightly with ribbons," Ron said. "Why would you tie up someone with ribbons?"

"I don't get the next part. 'Why in this form, nothing is hidden'? What does Peeves mean by that?" Harry asked, looking at the girls.

"Oh! I get it!" George laughed, followed by Fred.

"Get what?" Ron and Harry chorused.

"He's in the buff! That's why Kirkland was going crazy over the whole thing!" Fred laughed.

Hermione and Ginny did not have the same thoughts of humor as George and Fred did, as both where blushing and looking elsewhere, finding Hogwarts' interior design much fascinating, again.

"What! You mean the man was — and tied up with — in a box!" Ron stuttered, unable to comprehend the information. Harry looked as flustered and aghast as Ron.

"Don't forget the bow." George snickered.

"Bow? What bow?" Harry asked.

"Though, one sleek bow ventures down south, and wrapped around his big —"

"Stop, stop! I get it!" Harry said, bringing his palm to his face. _'Oh Merlin that's just… Just terrible.'_

"Oi, I couldn't even finish it even if I wanted to, Peeves never finished his song." George laughed.

"Why would someone give Professor Kirkland a — er — man in a box?" Ron asked.

"Kirkland's probably some Nancy boy. He says he's some gentleman. _Che._ He's probably a pansy." Someone sneered from behind; it was Malfoy with his two loyal chumps Crabbe and Goyle behind him.

Hermione gasped. "That's completely rude, Malfoy!"

"What? Why else would someone send a tied-up and naked man to Kirkland? They probably knew it was his life-long desire for such a disgusting gift." Malfoy scoffed, Crabbe and Goyle snickering from the less-than-kind comment.

"It might have been a horrible prank from someone he knew." Ginny defended.

"Defend the man all you want, but there's no denying it." Malfoy laughed before heading back to the Slytherin table.

It wasn't long before Professor Kirkland and "Alfie" came back from wherever they had been; however, Alfie was now clad in a white hoodie, black slacks, and white sneakers instead of a blanket draped over his head. Professor Kirkland was wearing a less-than-happy look upon his face.

Alfie, if anything, was a very handsome young man. His skin was fair, but also nicely tanned. He looked to be a couple centimeters taller than Professor Kirkland and looked rather muscular, but still maintained a lean figure. He had wheat-blonde hair and a bit of it seemed to be rather stubborn and stuck up in the air. As of now, he was wearing a silly grin that seemed to annoy Professor Kirkland.

Arthur and Alfie began to pass by the Gryffindor's table when Alfie looked over to Harry and the rest of his close group of friends. Alfie then pointed a hand at Harry and shouted. "Woah! You're Harry Podder!"

Harry blinked, because this man, Alfie, had a rather odd accent. An American accent? "Er — Yes I am."

"Nice to meet a fellow hero!" Alfie laughed. Alfie's laugh was very loud and echoed throughout the Great Hall.

"Alfred! That's extremely rude! You were taught better than that!" Professor Kirkland seethed, smacking the possible American in the shoulder.

Alfred, seeing that "Alfie" was just a nickname, turned back to Professor Kirkland and grinned widely. "Well, you could say my caretaker at that time did a horrible job."

Professor Kirkland gasped. "How… How dare you say that you…you… You insufferable little prat!"

"Aw Igs, you know I'm only kiddin'." Alfred pouted, "you did a wonderful job, it just wasn' enough…" He whispered the last part; however, Harry was still able to hear it ever so slightly.

Professor Kirkland gritted his teeth. "Stop butchering _my_ language and apologize to Mr. Potter. And that's with a "T", not "D". If you're going to say it, say it right."

"What! For what?" Alfred whined.

"Remember that _I'm the one protecting_ _you_ _from the ghosts_ that roam around here." Professor Kirkland hissed, a less-than-friendly grin spreading across his lips.

Alfred immediately tensed and turned back to Harry. "Dude, I'm totally sorry for, like, being rude and stuff! It's all in good fun, right?" Alfred began to laugh; however, it was more nervous than obnoxious like before.

"Uh… It's quite alright?" Harry said, slightly unsure and confused. "Sorry if I come off a bit rude, but are you an American?"

Alfred blinked and his smile grew bright again. Alfred threw Harry a thumbs-up. "You bet'cha! 'Cause I'm the hero!"

Alfred began to laugh; however, he was smacked upside-the-head by Professor Kirkland. "Enough of that, Alfred!" Turning to Harry, Professor Kirkland gave Harry an apologetic look. "I'm sorry for his discourteous behavior, Mr. Potter. I assure you I'll make it my best interest to right this so that he won't be terribly incessant around you or your mates."

"Okay. Thank you, Professor." Harry said, smiling just a bit to the professor.

"Professor? Dude, Art, you're a professor? Dude, that sucks for you kids! He's probably lecturing you guys to death about English and literature and proper etiquette and math and whatever." Alfred listed mournfully.

"Alfred! This is a magic school, not a — Ugh! — never mind! It's useless talking to you!" Professor Kirkland growled.

Seeming to ignore Professor Kirkland, Alfred held out a hand, "The name's Alfred F. Jones. Call me Mr. Jones or Five Star Pilot or even Hero of Awesomeness." Alfred gave a goofy smile; however, he was smacked by Professor Kirkland… again.

"Harry — or any of you — don't call him by such ridiculous names. You'll address this git as Alfred." Professor Kirkland commanded.

"Okay…" Harry said.

"Well, goodbye, Mr. Potter. Everyone." Professor Kirkland said, before harshly grabbing Alfred by the upper arm and dragging him to the staff table, most likely to continue the rest of his interrupted lunch. Alfred waved goodbye at the kids.

"Well… That was rather… odd." Ginny commented a short while after the professor's leave.

"Very." Hermione agreed.

"Something's awfully strange about that man. But what do you reckon?" Ron asked.

"I don't know, but Hermione might be right in a way." Harry said.

"Like what?"

"Somehow, someway, Alfred is Professor Kirkland's little one." Harry finished, Hermione gave him a smile then frowned.

"But how does that make sense? I know what I pieced together from Peeves, but we can't jump to conclusion from what Peeves said. We don't have enough information." Hermione explained.

"Well, we can put this bit of information with your pieces. Remember Professor Kirkland's reaction when Alfred said his caretaker did a horrible job raising him?" Harry continued.

"Yeah, he went all stiff and offended-like." Ron added.

"Well, Alfred apologized and then he whispered 'you did a wonderful job, it just wasn' enough…' to the professor." Harry finished.

Ron, Hermione and Ginny gasped. "But how is it possible?"

"I don't know, but while Professor Kirkland [or Alfred] remains here, we're going to be keeping a close eye on them. Something is very wrong with them, and I'm not sure if Dumbledore knows." Harry declared.

Nodding, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny made it their secret goal to discover the clandestine mystery that was Arthur Kirkland and Alfred F. Jones, unbeknownst to them that searches were already in progress about the mysterious teacher.

**III**

Arthur dragged Alfred over to the staff table, ignoring the stares from the curious students and their murmuring. However, instead of taking his seat next to Hagrid, he ordered Alfred to sit there. Alfred gave Arthur a confused look before sitting down.

"Yo Art, why am I sitting here?" Alfred asked, looking up at Arthur who stood before him at the table.

"You're going to eat, of course." Arthur said. "Wasn't that obvious enough?"

Alfred smiled. "Nope."

Alfred took a look around and spotted Hagrid next to him, extending his hand to the burly man, he gave the man his million-watt smile and introduced himself. "Yo, I'm Alfred F. Jones, but you can call me Alfred."

Hagrid took Alfred's hand and gave him a good hard shake, "Rubeus Hagrid. Not ter be rude, but who are yeh?"

Alfred laughed. "I'm Iggy's work associate from the non-wizardy world!"

"Iggy?" Hagrid asked.

"A dastardly nickname Alfred kindly bestowed upon me, though I _tell him countless times to not call me by such_." Arthur said, hinting to Alfred with a tone of annoyance. However, Alfred being Alfred ignored him.

"It's after your middle name… Ignacio."

"My middle what?" Arthur muttered as he gave Alfred a perplexed look.

"Oh. So what did yeh work for in the Muggle world?" Hagrid asked before taking a bite of roast beef.

"Oh, we work for our own governments. I work in the great, heroic, awesome land—" Alfred was interrupted by a smack by Arthur, "America, and Iggy works for England, or all of the UK."

"Yes, but I've gone for a vacation — if you could call it so — to work here." Arthur said as a matter of fact.

"Work here? I thought you were, like, kidnapped by people who know where you live, like the mailman or Franc—" Alfred stopped mid-sentence before adding on "-is. Francis is weird, like you; I know the things you two do. Mattie told me."

Arthur reddened with horror. "What!"

"Uh-huh. Karaoke-bars, getting drunk, arrested and all sorts of things. Man, either you're in a mid-life crisis right there or you still have that hidden punk-star wrapped in your studded leather pants." Alfred chuckled, a sly grin sweeping across his face as his eyes became a hue darker.

Arthur reddened and hissed. "Belt up, you wanker!"

Alfred laughed and grabbed a plate of roast beef. "I hope this wizard food is better than your cooking, Arthur!"

"Oh, that's it. Peeves! Peeves, where are you?" Arthur called out, looking around for the poltergeist.

Alfred began to shake and cower in his seat. "A-Art! T-That's s-so not fair!" Before he could stutter out another whine, Alfred was grabbed from behind in a backwards-like hug.

Alfred screamed when he saw transparent hands wrap their selves around his waist and arms, the hair at the back of his neck sprung up when he felt someone, or something, whisper at his ear "Oh, Alfie~!", drawing out his name.

"A-Art! M-Make him st-st-stop! M-Make h-him st-stop! M-Make him stop! _Please ma-make him stop!"_ Alfred cried as he tried to push the poltergeist away; however, Arthur only turned his head. By the looks of it, the charm of the Moaning Minis had stopped its affects, which Arthur was thankful for.

"_Please, Arthur! I beg you!_" Alfred pleaded.

"Peeves, let him go." Arthur commanded. "I think he's learned enough." Peeves whined in reply, but obeyed nonetheless.

"Until next time, Alfie!" Peeves sang as he waved a mock salute.

It was in record time that Alfred cluttered out a slurred goodbye and ran out of the Great Hall. Arthur sighed and ran a hand through his hair before muttering. "I need to follow the bloody git. He's going to get lost."

Arthur followed Alfred's suit and walked whilst peering through halls that Alfred might have taken; however, he stopped and turned around, "Albus?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "How you always know I'm near, I'll never know. So, I presume that was Alfred? My, he's grown an awful lot since last I saw him. He's grown more than yourself."

"Yes, it's Alfred, and he has grown… taller than me, actually." Arthur admitted.

"Yes, though not by much — two, three centimeters? It must make him proud." Dumbledore said with a gleeful smile.

"Yes, as children often do when they become taller than their guardian." Arthur commented, a small, almost insignificant, smile ghosting across his lips.

"Is that what you are?"

Arthur frowned. "No, not anymore at least. But, I should stop talking about this. Alfred never likes it when I talk about that time, or any time other than now… Because he was different from then… Or was he ever different from the first place?" Arthur continued to mumble on when he remembered the old man beside him. "Ah! I'm sorry! I was rambling."

"No, no. It's all right. Shouldn't you locate Alfred? I believe, by now, that he is lost."

"Ah! Yes! Thank you, Dumbledore, I'm never sure how I'll ever be able to repay you for all the things you do."

"Lemon drops will do just fine, Professor Kirkland." Dumbledore said with a smile as Arthur left towards the halls. "Ah, Professor Kirkland, your _wand_."

Arthur turned around before blushing. He pulled the candle out of his coat and gave it to Dumbledore. "Ah, sorry."

As Dumbledore was walking back towards the Great Hall, he heard murmuring far behind him and he turned around. He looked to see Arthur plant his hands on the floor, which began to glow a bright yellow. For an unknown reason, unspeakable wind came forth from the floor below Arthur. Soon, in a bright green flash and strong gush of wind, twinkling, bright golden beings around Arthur's height formed and then materialized into replicas of the emerald-eyed man. The doppelgängers nodded in some shared thought and they split in different directions on their quest to find the apparently lost teen.

Dumbledore grinned again and nodded his head. "Always filled with wonders, Sir Kirkland."

**IV**

After his talk with Dumbledore, Arthur ventured further into the halls. His worry over Alfred was escalating because even though as much as he denied it, he still had _some_ feelings for the American. After all, he _did_ raise the boy. Though, why did the bloody git wander off so far? Or was he just sidetracked? Perhaps Alfred still had some memories of Hogwarts, if even just a slight bit. However, he doubted that. Alfred seemed to erase all memories of his time at Hogwarts and magic in Pandora's box. After all, it was the reason he became so traumatized by ghosts. Maybe that was why he refused to believe in magic…

Seeing that looking around was doing any good for one person, Arthur resorted the fasted way to find Alfred was through his doppelgangers. Arthur summoned up his summoning circle and chatted out a string of Ænglisc* words and the circle began to glow. As it glowed, a small breeze of wind picked up from the circle as it drew up small amounts of Angel Dust. As the breeze and the glow grew stronger, so did the amount of the divine dust.

It was soon that the dust took form and materialized into seven replicated forms of Arthur. With a look of determination and the order of _"Depart"_, the replicas nodded and parted ways. Arthur took off to the stairs and looked around for the lost nation. Becoming more irritated by the second, Arthur called out for Alfred.

"Alfred! You sodding git! Where are you?"

Arthur, as expected, received no reply but the giggling of the portraits. Wait — the portraits! Another set of helpful hands, well, if they were given any. Arthur strolled over to a portrait of a Late Fourteenth century woman and politely bowed.

"My lady, have you not seen a man with spectacles? His hair is blonde and his skin is touched with a light tan. His eyes are blue and he wears a white shirt and black slacks. Have you not seen this man?" Arthur asked ever-so civilly.

The woman gave a smile. "No I'm afraid not. Would you like help to search for this man?"

"Yes, it would be greatly appreciated. I must find him immediately." Arthur said.

"I'll request the other portraits to help you. When we find him, we'll inform you right away." The portrait assured, smoothing out her cloud-blue dress with white lining. "Ah, was it Alfred? Alfred is gone?"

"Thank you. It's Mary, correct? It's very kind of you to help me." Arthur said, thanking the woman. "And yes, it is Alfred, albeit, a much taller Alfred from the last you saw."

"Yes, it's Mary and not at all, the pleasure is mine, Sir Kirkland." The woman said before curtsying and taking her leave.

The portrait woman later appeared in another portrait and chatted with her fellow kin. It was soon that the portraits began to inform each other of Alfred and gossiping about the new gen. However, as Arthur waited for one of the portraits to learn of Alfred's location, it was time for students to head off to their next class.

Arthur frowned but was not very worried for being "late" again. Arthur was hoping to at least find Alfred and make it back to his class, however, he knew it wouldn't be easy (life never is) and sent a doppelganger to his History of Magic class as precaution.

Arthur stepped out of the line of traffic as students began to flood the halls. As he watched the students hustle by, he heard a "Sir Kirkland?" come behind him.

Arthur turned around to see the Mary from before again, with a man next to her.

"Did you find Alfred?" Arthur asked. Mary nodded.

"Yes, Samuel here informed me actually."

"It seems Alfred wondered into the Hufflepuff Tower. My daughter should be guiding him back here any time soon." Samuel notified.

"The Hufflepuff Tower? Well, he never had a sense of direction in buildings… Thank you, Samuel. Mary."

Samuel bowed as Mary curtsied in unison. Arthur, in return, bowed back. Samuel then left and Mary returned to her own portrait, revealing the portrait before Arthur was that of the Forbidden Forest in its heydays. Back then, the Forbidden Forest was only just a forest, and not a speck of eeriness was in the forest. In fact, back then, the forest was much more welcoming and was filled with lush flowering Astreso plants and the trees didn't seem so disturbing with a hint of moss.

Gazing at the portrait, where the trees and plants occasionally swayed at the questionable wind, Arthur jumped when he heard someone yell "Iggy!" Arthur turned only to be trampled by Alfred in a bruising hug.

"Get off me, you twit!"

"Nuh-uh! And besides, this 'ere girl tol' meh a Mister Kirkland was lookin' for a little ol' man-mistress!" Alfred said is a Southern drawl, which earned him a smack. "Ow!"

"I said nothing of the sort, you bleeding git!"

"Shit! I'm bleeding? Where?" Alfred exclaimed, examining his body.

"It's an expression, you twit."

"Oh."

Arthur turned to Samuel's daughter. "Thank you for guiding Alfred here. You are a very kind help."

"Not a problem, Sir Kirkland!" The girl giggled. "I'm going back to my father now or he'll worry where his Abigail is!"

Abigail curtsied and left, traveling through portraits until she was out of sight.

Arthur turned to Alfred. "You insufferable wanker! Why didn't you turn back when you figured you were lost?"

"I did, but I forgot where I came from." Alfred said with his obliviousness showing. Arthur sighed.

"Anyway, you're going to come with me while I teach class, got it."

Alfred only smiled his million watt smile and gave Arthur a thumbs-up. "Okay!"

"Also, one last thing."

"What?"

"Ignacio?"

"What? You want me to tell him it's from 'Igirisu'?"

"No! None of this Japanese stuff! I don't care how well you are friends with Kiku, we're not in Japan!"

"Uh… Melting pot here."

"It was a mistake to even ask you why…"

**V**

When the two covert nations reached Arthur's class, Arthur stopped Alfred from immediately barging into the classroom.

"Why can't we go in?"

"Because I have a doppelgänger currently in the room, I have to first get him to leave to room first." Arthur explained.

"How?"

"By knocking of course."

Arthur knocked on the door and stepped back a few steps. When the door opened, it revealed his doppelgänger. The doppelgänger strode forwards and closed the door promptly. Arthur beckoned his summoning circle, however, this time it appeared on his right palm. Arthur turned his palm to the doppelgänger and muttered another string of Ænglisc. The doppelgänger lost its form and became a mass matter of flowing golden dust. Then, like a vortex, the summoning circle upon Arthur's palm began to glow to a blinding bright green and the dust began to swirl into Arthur's palm. However, Alfred noticed the golden dust coming from other directions in the hall.

Arthur then patted his hands together to rid of non-existent dust and proceeded to the door, Alfred following behind.

"Sorry for the delay," Arthur began as he walked into the center of the room. "I was just talking to my associate." Alfred waved happily to the class.

"Yo! I'm Alfred F. Jones! Nice ta meet you all!"

The class gawked at Alfred in shock and awe.

A boy then raised his hand. "Are you an American?"

"You bet'cha!" Alfred exclaimed.

"It explains why his grammar is atrocious." Arthur said with a smirk. Alfred pouted.

"Low blow, toots."

"I told you not to call me tha — did you just call me 'toots'? Merlin you Americans are so daft… Toots, ridiculous…" Arthur said, mumbling off.

"Hey! My pet names for you are awesome!" Alfred griped.

"Um… Are you two… like… intimate?" A girl asked hesitantly.

Arthur reddened and Alfred smiled.

"Of course not! The git just doesn't understand the word 'no'!" Arthur insisted, "Anyway, ignore Alfred and we'll continue on with the lesson."

However, as he continued the lesson, his doppelgänger started, the class seemed more interested in Alfred, who was writing down words like "tootsie baby" or arrows pointing out little trivial facts like "he's a gentlemen with punk underlies!" with little doodles around them in an eccentric manner. Though, every now and then, he'd let out a laugh and motion the class to stay quiet. Though when Arthur saw what the American was doing, he became mad and decked the man.

It was during the end of the session Arthur stopped teaching and looked towards the window. Flying Mint Bunny had appeared before him to inform him of unsettling news.

"Buckbeak?"

**VI**

As Arthur and Alfred walked back to Arthur's room, Arthur turned to Alfred. "Why are you following me? Why don't you go home now? You don't even like Hogwarts."

Alfred looked surprised and baffled by Arthur's statement. "What! No! I totally like it here!"

Arthur didn't look convinced of Alfred's plea.

"I mean it!" Alfred persisted.

"Right. Yes, you absolutely love it here!" Arthur exclaimed with feigned glee, though Alfred didn't seem obvious to it.

"Yeah!"

"I mean, why wouldn't you like it here? This place is teaming with ghosts. Hundreds of ghouls and monsters lurking about, you know."

Alfred flinched.

"But you're the hero, aren't you? Surely you can handle anything, can't you? Well, I'm off to bed. Have a nice night with the phantoms Mr. Hero." Arthur mocked as he left to his room entrance with its changed password.

"Arthur no! Don't leave me!" Alfred cried as he pounced over Arthur.

"Bloody wanker! Get off!"

"No! The ghosts are going to get me and turn me into a zombie! I don't want to die!"

"Tosser! You can't die by that! It makes no sense!"

"Please let me sleep with you tonight! I don't want to go home! And I don't want to sleep alone, it'll be too scary!"

"Why not? You've got massive family back home, how would you be alone? Let alone scary."

"I don't want to do the paper work and Mexico's bugging me about Italy's Coffee Club*… And my kids are fighting and I don't want to get caught in it." Alfred whined.

"So, you left Magena* to do it all, in her weak condition. How nice of you to do that." Arthur said, frowning.

"Hey! Don't jump to conclusions!" Alfred argued. "One, my mom, with the help of the Originals*, are watchin' the younger ones. Two, she's more than happy to do my job for a while. Three, why're you being so mean to me? I love you!"

Arthur cringed. "Stop saying that! Are you stupid? _I don't love you!_"

Alfred pouted. "Why not?"

"It doesn't work that way!"

"Why? What doesn't work what way?"

"Love."

Alfred looked at Arthur with confusion marked over his face.

"Why don't you just leave, Alfred? It's better that way." Arthur said, only receiving a luminous smile from the true American. "What?"

Alfred laughed, "I'm not going anywhere. From today on forward, I'm staying here until you love me!"

"Even if I have to punch you every day?" Arthur asked.

"Yes! Even if you have to — wait wha-" Alfred couldn't even finish his sentence as Arthur sent his fist into his face.

Alfred held his jaw. "Ow! Arthur, that hurt!"

"It was meant to, you wanker!" With that, Arthur left to his room and closed the entrance immediately.

Alfred frowned and slumped down on the wall, holding his jaw and grimacing. _'Why won't Arthur like me? I like him _and_ love him! I wonder if it's something I'm doing wrong… He complains about me always eating Micky D's…'_

It was a while later, as Alfred droned into his sleep; Arthur exited his room and dragged the sleeping American into his room. Lifting the American into his bed, Arthur sighed and ran an exhausted hand through his hair, _'Why do you do this to me? Why can't you just understand for once? You'll only hurt yourself you git.'_ Arthur slid into bed and faced the opposite direction of the sleeping man next to him and drifted away himself.

**VII**

Alfred quietly awoke when his senses alerted him of his need to relieve himself. When he awoke, he found himself tucked into a bed and a semi-dark room. Alfred turned slightly to see Arthur's back to him. After conjecturing that the Englishman had taken him to his room and bed from guilt, Alfred smiled and leaned to the snoozing man and placed a kiss on his head. As he was about to move, Alfred gave a slight jump from a Scottish Fold wedging itself between him and Arthur, staring quietly at Alfred.

"Who are you, little fella?" Alfred whispered, spotting a collar on the cat. Picking up the tag, he chuckled softly. "Excalibur, huh? 'Course Arthur'd name ya that."

Alfred ruffled the cat's head and carefully left the bed and to the bathroom to complete his need. Later, after leaving the bathroom, Alfred climbed into bed and nuzzled into Arthur's shoulders, gleefully smiling and shortly falling asleep afterward. Excalibur readjusted himself and huddled between his owner and Alfred, falling back asleep himself.

**i**

*****  
>NOTE: I only asterisked what was not commonly known, remembered, foreign, or possibly too slurred to comprehend. That this note into account for later chapters.<strong>

**Moaning Master Minis* — [made-up] tiny treats (created by Rossi Kirkland and Francis Bonnefoy) that cause the eater to moan whenever in a high emotional state (whether it be anger, pleasure or grief). The effects of the Moaning Minis last longer when more are consumed. The victim does not know they had just consumed the Minis until they become at an emotional state.  
>Note: it's very funny to watch a victim of Moaning Master Minis.<br>Note 2: the effects of the Minis do not become active until the victim is at an emotional state, so a victim can eat a Moaning Mini and a week or so can pass by before the victim becomes overly emotional and the affects will kick in.**

**Melahod* — Greek: melan- dark, black; hodo- path, gateway; meaning "dark/bright path/gateway"**

**Luxitiner* — Latin: luc- bright, light; itiner- route, way; meaning "bright/light route"**

**spotted dick* — an English dessert.**

**Red Ensign* — Pirate jargon for the British flag**

**Privateer* — Pirate jargon for Government-authorized pirates by permission of a letter of marque (a government license to attack and sack enemy ships)**

**Scourge of the seven seas* — Pirate jargon for a evil, malicious pirate**

**Ænglisc* — Old English**

**_Semper idem_****.* — Latin [masculine form]; meaning "always the same". This is a reference to Elizabeth I's own "****_Semper eadem",_**** the feminine form.**

**Italy's Coffee Club* — reference to the Uniting for Consensus (UC), also known as the Coffee Club [which was started/leaded by Italy]. It's a movement that developed in the 1990s in opposition to the possible expansion of the United Nations Security Council. It's also to counter the actions proposed by G4 nations (Brazil, Germany, India, and Japan). Core members [in alphabetical order] are: Argentina, Canada, Colombia, Costa Rica, Indonesia, Italy, Malta, Mexico, Pakistan, South Korea, San Marino, Spain, and Turkey. Anon, the group later came to have 50 countries in Asia, Africa, and Latin America [as members]. For more information, read the [short] article on wiki. Link: en. Wikipedia wiki/Uniting_for_Consensus ((no spaces))**

**Magena* — Native America, Alfred's "mother".**

**Originals* — reference to the Original Thirteen [States] of America.**

**ii**

**Of course Alfred makes an awesome entrance into ****_Harry Potter and the Man of Britannia_****! :D How will the next chapter be with him at Hogwarts now?**

**iv**

**Anyway...**

**Love,  
>DeiDeiArtistic<strong>


	6. Not Serious Enough Part 1

**Harry Potter and the Man of Britannia**

**Chapter 5**

**Not Serious Enough**

**Part 1**

**DeiDeiArtistic: Yo! Fifth chapter [Part 1]! :D**

**Chapter Dedication: StargateNerd. ;3**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or Harry Potter, likewise any of the preexisting characters or places.  
>Claimer: I own the plot of this story and any fictional character or idea that is not mentioned in either Hetalia or Harry Potter<strong>

*****  
>WARNING: This chapter <strong>_**hasn't**_** been Beta'd.  
>Also, Part IV is rated T for mild language.<br>Part V is rated M for offensive language and violence.  
>***<strong>

**I**

**A**rthur massaged his temples as he tried to calm his nerves. When that didn't work he took a sip of his Earl Tea. Ever since Alfred had unpleasantly "arrived" to Hogwarts and called forth his "heroic mission"— whatever that was. Arthur really didn't need to deal with all of the American's antics, which were very unpredictable or just terrible timing, but he didn't really have a say in the matter as Alfred was now a Hogwarts _student_.

He could just remember the nagging conversation between him, Dumbledore…

…

_Arthur sat across Dumbledore in the Head Master's office. Alfred was walking around the office and admiring the odd wizardly ornaments that lay about, ignoring Arthur's orders to stop fooling around. It was only when Alfred dropped a small glass bottle did he stop, as the contents of the bottle turned the covert nation into a jack rabbit._

_He immediately jumped out of his seat and picked up the now-rabbit teen, "Serves you right you bloody dolt."_

_Rabbit Alfred only twitched his nose and whiskers and squirmed in Arthur's grip._

_Arthur turned to Dumbledore, "I'm sorry for Alfred breaking your vile. He's not a very good listener… or very bright…" Alfred lowered his ears and hid his face between his forepaws, his nose twitching._

_Dumbledore chuckled, "No, no. It's all right. Accidents happen." He waved his wand in the direction of the broken glass and the vile was returned to its previous state, however empty of any substance. "I'll have the Potions Master concoct an antidote for young Alfred."_

_"Ah thank you." Arthur said, sitting back down in his seat and placing Alfred in his lap, holding the rabbit-nation in place to prevent escape._

_"None at all," Dumbledore began. "Now, I asked for you here as I have some matters to deal with."_

_Arthur frowned, this didn't sound like a very good start._

_"Lately, I've been hearing that you've — well, exposed of all the History of Magic books in replace of journals."_

_He felt embarrassed. "Well, yes. I've read the books before and they're completely inadequate. They are just filled with stories that have been over exaggerated or not told to the fullest."_

_"Is that right?" Dumbledore asked._

_"Yes, though I can't explain why, I know all the truth behind magic and its history." Arthur persisted._

"_Knowing you, I have no doubts about your knowledge, so I'll allow it." Dumbledore explained. "But you must know if — or rather — when the Ministry finds that you are not teaching by the given curriculum, it may not be an easy battle for me as it is for you."_

_Arthur gave Dumbledore a confident stare, "I understand. I'll deal with the Ministry myself when it comes to that point."_

_"Alright. My other concern is about Alfred."_

_Arthur gulped; well this wasn't certainly going to be good._

_"You've said that Alfred had no desire to leave Hogwarts, correct?"_

_"Ah, yes. I've said that."_

_"Well, as you see, Hogwarts is for magical students and the teaching of magic, with the exception of its bounded spirits," Dumbledore began._

_"Yes, I'm quite aware of that." Arthur said, not liking the direction of the conversation._

_"Seeing that Alfred is neither of those listed…"_

_He gulped. He certainly did not like this as he felt he knew what was coming next._

_"I would like Alfred become a student at Hogwarts."_

_It was then Arthur's brain stopped all functions and all of England felt a sense of disorientation rack around their brain, as if they had forgotten what they had just been doing (which was bad for anyone on the road…)._

_With quick recovery and a slight wince, Arthur stuttered out, "Y-Y-You can't be serious! I mean! The bloody fool doesn't believe in magic! Even now he'll deny its existence!"_

_"No, no. I believe he'll do very well." Dumbledore chuckled._

_"But — But he's over the age limit to just waltz into Hogwarts! He'd be very held back!" Arthur persisted._

_"He'll be a special student. He'll be given a test to calculate his standards, in which whatever year fits his needs best he will be placed into that grade level."_

_"Like an achievement or standardized test?" Arthur asked, dreading the entire situation._

_"Very much so. That and you wouldn't have to constantly have an eye on him and teach as you like." Dumbledore smiled through his beard._

_"Fantastic." Arthur huffed before feeling his finger being bitten by Alfred. "Ow!"_

_Arthur rubbed his hand and looked at Rabbit Alfred. He looked as if he had gotten strangled by some over affectionate child. Oh. Arthur hadn't realized he was squeezing Alfred so hard, or squeezing him in the first place._

_"Er, sorry…"_

_Alfred turned his head._

_"So, how long will the antidote take to be made?" Arthur asked, deciding it was best to place Alfred on the floor to prevent more accidental subconscious choking…_

_"It shouldn't take long. Severus may have the potion done by your next class."_

_"Well, that's good." Arthur said before feeling something brush up against his leg multiple times. "Excalibur?"_

_Arthur peered down, expecting to see Excalibur, who always disappeared and reappeared in the oddest of times, to be horrified at the sight given to him._

_Alfred was humping his leg — and Arthur knew very well it was on purpose._

_"You disgusting git! Get off my leg!" Arthur yelled as he jerked his leg forward sending a flying rabbit into the air._

_Alfred landed onto the ground with a THUMP and immediately knew he was in trouble as he sprinted away to the exit, only to be followed by an angry, raging Briton._

…

It had been two weeks since then, but no matter what, Arthur could not accept the fact. _Dumbledore thought it was best to enroll the apparent teen into Hogwarts? _Was he mad? — well, madder than usual… A reason he claimed was so that Arthur "did not have to constantly watch the boy and could have a better focus on teaching". However, Arthur thought it was mostly from the rumors containing him and Alfred, but mostly about him… physically attacking the American at any time the boy came within a few meters…

Alas, Arthur couldn't do anything to help himself — not by much anyway. Alfred was just the last person he wanted to see at Hogwarts. He found the American's actions stupid. By any means, who goes off and panics when a co-worker decides to take a vacation of some sort that was barely decided in _two_ days? — More or less. It wasn't as if Arthur had been planning months prior to leave, it was practically on a whim before on the third day Alfred shows up without a warning. However, this was Alfred he was dealing with and the boy was always eccentric if not hasty in situations.

Yet, pleasingly enough, Alfred was embarrassingly a third year at Hogwarts, something Arthur could hold over the young nation. After having to admit he remembered some but not most of his magic skills he had learned before at Hogwarts, Alfred took the Wizard's Achievement Script Paper, or WASP*, and was placed under the third year category as his skills and knowledge best qualified the third year.

Though, surprisingly enough, Arthur was not at all shocked by it. After all, Alfred had "quit" Hogwarts during his fourth year — sometime around Halloween…

Also, for some unknown reason, the faeries were _ignoring_ him. And if they were not ignoring him, they'd play their cruel tricks on him! He had no idea why they were being so harsh! They've never really treated him like this unless he'd accidently offend them, but he wasn't sure what he'd done this time and it was worrying him so much! What if they never talked to him again? That would be awfully terrible…

Lastly, his wand was still messing and his constantly fretting about it. Anytime he'd talk to Rossi about it, he would just blow him off with an excuse, which was not helpful to his nerves. He _needed _his wand back, why didn't Rossi understand that? He knows of the consequences! Arthur could not be without his wand, or at least knew of it location on a daily basis.

Thinking about his wand for so long caused Arthur to shiver in terror, of all the possibilities of what had happened to his wand! Absolutely frightening! What if someone had _stolen_ it? Or worse — they had_broken_ it. These constant thoughts were making him on-edge. He needed his wand back _now!_ Rossi had to pick up his slack and _actually_ go find his wand; he can't always use Angel Dust Doppelgängers to solve his problems…

However, sans his missing wand, his time at Hogwarts wasn't _all_ bad. During his stay as a teacher, he'd become excellent friends with Remus, the Defense Against Dark Arts teacher and even Hagrid, Hogwarts' gamekeeper and Care of Magical Creatures teacher. During lunch, he, Remus and Hagrid would chat about various subjects, mostly that involved magical creatures and little adventures they had with certain creatures in their years.

It was with them Arthur could express his concern over the faeries' late behavior, although they couldn't truly reconcile with him as faeries only appeared to be bright shining masses that twinkled and shimmered; they didn't have Complete Sight* like Arthur.

But, on good nights, they'd go out for drinks at the Leaky Cauldron and share a couple of drinks. Arthur laughed at his first drinking session with Remus and Hagrid; it had gone terrible.

…

"_What would you like sir?" Tom asked, looking at Arthur for his reply._

"_Tea will do just fine, thank you." Arthur said with a light smile._

"_Tea? Arthur, lighten up." Remus grinned, taking a sip of cider, "It's not a school night, and neither is tomorrow."_

"_Nothin' wrong with a little drinking every now and then." Hagrid smiled, taking in a swallow of Scotch ale._

_Grinning sheepishly at them, Arthur sighed and his smile grew wider and he looked at Tom, "Better make that rum please."_

_Tom nodded and began to fill up a mug of the chosen alcohol._

"_Rum, huh?" Remus said smiling._

"_Yes, an old favourite. As long as it's alcohol, I'm content."_

"_Hm… Never would have thought yeh were the type ter drink Arthur — being a gentleman and all. No offense." Hagrid stated, taking another chug of ale._

_Arthur laughed, thanking Tom when he received his drink, "None taken — and any man would like a nice drink when the time suits him."_

"_Atta'boy!" Remus cheered before the three men clanked their drinks together at the sound of "Cheers!"_

_Elaborating stories with each guzzle of alcohol; the men became slightly tipsier and tipsier by the fourth drink. However, it was Arthur who began to thirst for more, one drink after another and a laugh or so. Nonetheless, the laughs and giggles slowly turned in sobs and wails and Arthur was left between the Hogwarts men crying out his woes, receiving pats on the back and consoling from them._

"_I mean… oder den my wan' bein' messin'… Alfred, da bloody bastard…I thought I kner… the blasted git. I'd reached… the far ends ov'da … Earth for 'im. I've wandered… da six — er — seven seas and… traveled to distant lands for booty. Allovit for 'im… And yet… he wants ter be treated as an equal? Nonsense!" Arthur moaned, taking a swing of rum — his eighth mug so far._

"_That's tough shite, bloke." Remus said grimly, taking pity on the man before him._

"_I kno'right? He… He just takes but never gives! He's… He's a taker! He had no… idea of what I've been through! Why I was… always gone! I had others beside him! I had… I had to take care of 'em ter!" Arthur slurred, tears running down his cheeks._

"_O-Others?" Hagrid hiccuped, looking at Arthur questionably._

"_Why I'd a'vays… travel to seas fer. Collectin' an' whatnot." Arthur moped, frowning at his empty glass. "Mo'e p'ease!"_

"_Sir, I've think you'd have enough. You've had fifteen drinks so far." Tom said wearily, bewildered by the oddity that was the drunken Englishman._

"_Yeh can't tell me what an' what I can't do! I'm the bloody fucking United Kingdom! I can do what I what! — whenever I want to!" Arthur yelled, throwing an angry fist at Tom._

_However, Arthur felt someone grab his wrist and he turned around struggling with his assailant. His attacker happened to be Alfred and that was when Arthur grew into hysterics._

"_Wanker! How dare ye leave me! I 'ate ye! I 'ate ye! I'm da fuckin' United Kin'dom ova Great Brita'n an' North'rn Ir'land! You're en my country now and I forbid ye ov'any rights! Ye! Are! Inside! Me!" Arthur began to laugh wildly before pointing a finger towards the younger lad. However, it was after his rant that he thoroughly passed out and collapsed onto the American._

_Alfred laughed weakly and lifted the man into his strong arms, "Erm… Don't mind him or his ramblings… He's drunk and obviously he has no idea what he's talking about. You know what they say, don't take to thought of the ramblings of a drunk man and all…"_

_Tom nodded unsurely and looked at the collapsed man. "Alright, are you going to pay for his tab then?"_

"_Oh, sure. How much?"_

…

Arthur chuckled and continued on with his work. Currently he was in his History of Magic classroom grading class assignments of Old Magik as Alfred was off out and about somewhere, having now gotten Hogwarts' layout memorized. Seeing that he had no class to teach in the early morning, he spent his to grade paperwork, marking off answers here and there. Again, Arthur sighed.

_'I must work with Longbottom in the nearby close future; he's progressively mixing up Stellintra and Astreso…'_ Marking off another answer in red ink, Arthur heard knocking at his door.

"Uh, yes you may come in."

"Professor?" The door opened to reveal Hermione, which brought a smile to Arthur's face.

Hermione was Arthur pride and joy as a teacher. She was the fine example of an excelling student — smart, polite and a strong sense of right and wrong. She always seemed to have a thirst for knowledge, always asking questions and answering any questions asked. She was a bright young girl that Arthur knew her future was very promising for him as well as others. Although Arthur tried not to have favorites, Hermione defied that and took a special, platonic place in his heart. Arthur knew Hermione's parents were proud to have such a brilliant child among them.

**II**

Professor Kirkland smiled, "Oh. 'Ello Miss Granger. What brings you here?"

Hermione peered at Professor Kirkland's desk and gave him an apologetic look, "Did I come at a bad time? I can come back if it's alright — so you can continue on with your work."

"No, no." Professor Kirkland chuckled. "In my time, I've had a lot worse."

"Oh." Hermione said, however, thought Professor Kirkland's wording was a rather strange way to put it. "Well, I came here to ask you some questions."

"Ah like what?" Professor Kirkland asked. "It doesn't involve Alfred, right? I'm sorry he almost followed you to the girls' dormitory in the Gryffindor tower, he can become quite oblivious to his surroundings when he gets so caught up with sciences and such the like…"

Hermione laughed. "No it's quite alright, and he never actually went in, just almost."

Professor Kirkland smiled, "Well, what was it that you wanted to ask me?"

Hermione flushed, "Oh — ah — well…"

Professor Kirkland quirked and eyebrow. "Well…?"

"Well, how do you know so much information about magic that no one else knows about? I've tried to do more research about it in the libraries books and catalogs, but nothing came up relevant. It's a bit odd really…" Hermione confessed.

To her surprise, Professor Kirkland began to chuckle nervously, "Well, the information I know was given to me by my mother in her teachings. You won't find anything written down in books, but it old ruins."

"Ruins? What ruins?" Hermione asked, looking at Professor Kirkland.

"Ah, well, this may not sound good, but many of the ruins have disappeared, only leaving a few behind for the world to glimpse upon." Professor Kirkland answered, shuffling a few papers in his hand.

"Oh, like which ones?"

"Like Stone Hedge, the Great Pyramids of Giza — old monuments like those."

"But… There isn't any type of scripture on those monuments that non-wizards haven't deciphered… There aren't even pictographs on Stone Hedge!"

"Ah, but there is. Many ruins today are cast with old illusions. Your ancestors are telling you the secrets of how magic began on Earth. However, the knowledge was passed down orally and with each generation, it became dwindled with age, and pieces of information became lost and mixed up. And then, later on, there was a reform in magic and the teachings of Old Magik were gradually forgotten. There were few instances where someone would know of Old Magik. There was also a point where most wizards kept the secrets of magic to themselves."

Hermione looked at Professor Kirkland oddly. "Why? Why would they do that?"

"Well, at the time, people became… skeptic."

"Skeptic?"

"Yes, the wizard was very skeptically toward other wizards, power hungry and all. It was also that the magical and Muggle realm began their… dislike for each other. Wizards grew very proud. You see, back then, it was who was most related to their magical ancestors, which later became known as 'pure-bloods', and that was when the Blood Wars began — but I'll be talking about that in a later unit."

Hermione inwardly shivered as she did not like the sound of that particular unit…

"As I was saying, magical kind was unable to believe that magic was all from a common ancestral race and as acts of arrogance, they disassociated themselves with each other and everyone else. They refused to the means of Stellintra and Atsreso because nobody wanted to have the same link towards magic. And because of that, little by little, the teaching of those two became forgotten in time.

"It was also because of that, a distance was created. The Magical Kingdom was nervous with one another. Everybody was a secret. By the teachings of the Magic Origins, one could tell if one or an object was magic, however with the information forgotten, you couldn't search what you needed to look for, thus you could trust anyone. If you did, you might've revealed yourself to a Muggle or an enemy. Everybody was everyone's adversary.

"From the lack of trust, tension rose and all living things alike could feel it. Accusations were mad and outbreaks followed suit, creating feuds. Any time a Muggle was found to be with Stellintra, they panicked. They didn't know what would happen to them, magic was a tight-sealed secret, no turn for help and at risk of discovery by Muggles."

"Oh, what would they do when it happened?" Hermione asked.

"It's better not to say."

Hermione trusted Professor Kirkland's word for that.

"Soon, the magical world felt as if they had had enough and the Magic's Reform Era began. Again, that will be later discussed."

"So, the reason I couldn't find anything about your teachings is that it was forgotten?"

"Yes, quite so."

"And if I studied more, I can learn more about Old Magik?"

Professor Kirkland chuckled, "Well, that may be a little complicated if you don't know just who to contact. Maybe one day…"

Hermione inwardly frowned, what was that supposed to mean?

"Professor, how did the Magical Kingdom actually form if everyone kept magic a secret?"

"Well, it was the non-wizard Magics that began to form it first. They grouped together to gather their intelligence and share it with other magical folk, but kept it from wizards. Wizards later joined when they thought non-wizard Magics were grouping together for an attack on wizards; there was a lot of paranoia around that time. However, because of the distrust, battles broke out between rivalries and revenge from what came natural to certain creatures.

"However, both sides saw it was clear that the petty battles must cease to a stop and they began to draw up a treaty, or several of them. However, as the times changed along with the different regions, the Ministry of Magic was created in each country to govern its magic community and many laws and treaties have come and go."

"Professor, has magic progressed from Old Magik?" Hermione asked, wondering the new thought.

"Hmm… I suppose it'd be yes _and_ no. Old Magik was traditional, but time got the best of it. And certain information was either deemed unfair or dangerous. Magic, well, the spells have changed along with the rules. They're very similar, but different in teachings you could say. There was a lot more to Old Magik than to magic, but magic nowadays is far more convenient."

Hermione frowned. "But Professor, even magic is still unfair to those who _aren't_ wizards."

Professor Kirkland smiled, "And I'm sure you're going to change that, let everyone capable of magic to learn magic. They need a speaker… And I believe you'll be a great one."

Hermione blushed at the praise. "But what can I do? I mean, I'm just a kid still learning magic. I don't have much of a voice to give…"

"Ah, don't think about it like that. I believe everyone has a voice, you shouldn't let circumstances get to you."

"Thank you Professor." Hermione said, smiling softly.

Professor Kirkland chuckled and took a sip of his tea.

"Not at a-" Professor Kirkland never finished his sentence when he suddenly froze in place.

Hermione watched slightly frightened when Professor Kirkland's eyes were as wide as… Well as wide as an owl's… His presence seemed completely disturbed by something and Hermione jumped when the professor suddenly dropped his cup of tea, shattering it across the floor and the fluids splattering all around. Hermione couldn't tell what it was exactly, but she felt very frightened in the room.

**III**

Arthur froze mid-sentence. Somewhere in him he felt a door unlock and a chain snapping and shriveling up into nothing more than dust. He felt an almost foreign feeling pass through him, coursing through his body like blood. His heart felt heavy and yet his body felt light. The world was lost to him along with time and space. He felt numb with the influence but felt as if he could do anything he wanted.

This was what Arthur feared. In the pit of his stomach he felt the dreadful happened. His wand was broken.

He was utterly hopeless now. There was nothing he could do freely without his wand. He was no more — or will be at least. He felt a horrid presence seeping through his body like assassins ushering an ambush. With his wand broken, he was vulnerable and gullible. He'd be lost in his own void of despair — everyone clueless without a doubt!

The worst had come and now it was his responsibility, as it always was. Arthur had to take his own actions and be mindful of them, as best to his current ability. He was no longer the same being as before and he needed to fix that — help no longer an option.

Realizing he was still with somebody, much less one of his on students, Arthur slightly cringed at the sight of Hermione staring at him.

"I-I-I… I have to leave. It'd b-be best i-if you get to cla-ss now." He stuttered out, running out the room without a say of farewell.

For a while, Hermione stared nervously at the door, letting out a breath that she was subconsciously held. Shaking slightly, Hermione left the room, wondering what had just happened. Whatever it was, it felt horrible.

**IV**

Dashing out of his room with quick speed, Arthur clutched his head and located the staff bathrooms. Upon entering it, Arthur enchanted the lock of the door and strode over to the sink. Running the water, Arthur repeatedly splashed himself with water and he grew more frantic by the second.

_'These feelings… So utterly strong and immense… It's absolutely frightening. Why? Why would they think of such things? And completely under everyone's noses! Why? These thoughts — they're faint now… But when will they become compelling?'_

Lamenting, Arthur dried up his face and sat at the corner of the room, facing dully at the mirror. For a while he stared blankly at it, thinking of all his regrets he's made in life. Sulking the past, he shivered for the future — for him and his people. After dismissing the thought various times, Arthur succumbed to it and glanced at his right palm.

His hand was nothing out of the norm, just as it was supposed to be. Mindlessly, Arthur drew circles into his palm with a sense of guilt and betrayal. This was his own fault out of his own stupidity and loyalty. This was his price to pay, even though the cost was too high. From desperation, he did the most unreasonable to succeed. This was a secret that would die with him — that meant a lot as he was a nation, and nations didn't die as easily as humans did…

Sighing, Arthur circled up at the ceiling, continuing to mindlessly finger his palm. He was filled with dread and at the moment, he wasn't sure what to do anymore. He didn't know how long he had, that depended on his mood per se. This was his curse, as well as others. But it was this curse that gave him much more knowledge of what to truly fear — the strive for power. It was probably when in his later years of raising Alfred did he suppress his power — most of it anyways…

It was after tracing one circle after another, Arthur began to feel resentment. And after resentment, he felt detest. After detest, it was despising, scorning and abhorrence. Gradually, one feeling turned into another — each one more powerful than the last and thoughts began to occur in Arthur's mind.

By any means this was _not_ his fault.

'_This is Rossi's fault! Not mine!'_

Arthur wouldn't have been in his "little" predicament hadn't it not been for the Forbidden Forest and its creatures…

'_It's his blasted forest! The bleeding lug of a damned tree! The quicksand! Every centi-fucking-meter of that despicable forest!'_

If Rossi allowed Arthur to country-jump (much less apparate), he didn't even need to step a foot inside the Forbidden Forest and manually go through it.

_'None of this would _have_ happen. None of it at _all_.'_

And now, Arthur had to deal with a costly secret and Alfred of all people, or nations.

_'Oh, what a positive impact Alfred being here has brought me! All the god-damn joy and happiness in the world!'_

How could he keep his calm and sanity with that bugger goofing off around his people? Arthur scoffed. The boy did more bad than good whenever he was around. With pathetic ideals of good and justice showed just enough proof of how innocent he truly was to hold such childish dreams. He wanted to be everyone's Hero, but he didn't understand nobody wanted one.

He was a self-proclaimed "hero" — but there was nothing he could do to be Arthur's hero.

'_Hero? Hero my arse! He's just a dim-witted git! A Hero. Yes, precisely. A brave and bold hero terrified by the paranormal. Yes, absolutely brill! And he goes to a school that revolves around magic! A valiant boy right there who shivers at the sight of ghost and ghouls! Fucking perfect!' _Arthur growled.

Alfred was nothing more than a nuisance in Arthur's presence. He gritted his teeth from the sheer _pleasure_ it was to host Alfred.

'_He's just an insufferable prat that I have to babysit! He wouldn't be here if I never had to go to Rossi's damn home! Everything was Rossi's fault the fucking doing! The bastard is going to pay! He's going to get what's coming to him alright!'_

Furious, Arthur darted away from the restroom and down the hall. During his run around Hogwarts, he skillfully dodged students walking by and weaved through the tricky halls. Arthur did not have time for stalling games. In fact, he didn't have time to waste — not a day, not an hour, minute or second. As he grumbled ramblings under his breath (which grew shaky with each breathe) and clutched his right hand firmly, there was an eerie sensation swirling through his palm. He was already mad for staying in the restroom lollygagging — pathetic.

Not being mindful of his quick-hasted steps, Arthur collided with someone draped in dark long cloaks — Snape. Snape was his usual distasteful and loathsome self, but Arthur didn't feel like dealing with the man.

"Professor Kirkland…" Snape sneered, looking at Arthur with his naturally unpleasant face.

"P-Professor Snape," Arthur said between clenched teeth, putting up a fake smile as his eyebrow twitched. He did not have time for this. "I'm _dreadfully_ sorry, but I must go." And with that Arthur left without seeing to hear if Snape had anything else to say.

Snape scowled at Arthur behavior and shook his head in disgust.

**V**

Having no time to wait for students to clear out of the halls, Arthur leapt over glass-less windows and broke out running into the fields of Hogwarts and to the clearing. As he was running through the clearing, he could hear the slight chatter and wonder of Hogwarts' students peering out to look at him. However, he didn't care if he looked odd or strange for running straight into the Forbidden Forest, revenge was calling and it sounded sweet.

Taking the same path as before, wary of all the traps and tricks of the forest, Arthur huffed and huddled over the obstacles with great speed. Snaking through the trees and troughs, Arthur avoided risky impacts and insecure ground. Jumping over faults and evading the quicksand, Arthur's decent into the forest grew denser and denser. With the grades and turns of the forest, Arthur began to see the creatures lurking in the shadows.

However, even with the dangers of the creatures sneaking about, observing Arthur, he paid them no heed. He ignored plant vines attempting to trip him or efforts to drag him off somewhere. He didn't even care about the occasional massive spider every now and then. None of these creatures would dare cross his path at the moment; he didn't have the mind to deal with them.

Zigzagging further into the forest and avoiding its little traps like sinkholes and trick-of-the-eye landscape, Arthur drew closer to Rossi's home. Shoving his way past loose vines that threatened to pull him away and the sharp-edges leaves of parasitic plants, Arthur scowled when he caught sight of a massive tree log tumbled over the ground. Having learned from his last encounter, Arthur sidestepped the tree than jumping over it hastily.

When the tree didn't show any movement of spurring back to life from its dormancy, Arthur scoffed and returned back towards his destination to his brother's home. While he neared Rossi's house, Arthur began to walk, angrily clutching his fists. Cursing when he stepped into mossy mud, Arthur growled in agitation, the spiraling sensation in his hand burning.

Glowering, the corner of Arthur's eye spotted Rossi's house, which was not too far from where he stood. Smirking, Arthur calmly walked towards the Scottish man's house. Jumping over the crumbling bridge and landing roughly on the ground, but nonetheless, on his feet, Arthur leered dangerously at the house. Flexing his fist and gritting his teeth, Arthur walked over to the front entrance, and pressed his palm against it. It was soon enough that the wood beneath his hand began to emit smoke that he withdrew his hand the small embers began to crack and hiss as a trifling fire began to ignite.

Soon, the minor flames began to take direction and travel about, burning the old wood in its path until it worked its way to the walls of the house and smoke settling into the air. Arthur stepped back to admire the growing inferno, please with the results as he heard screaming emanating from within the house. However, Arthur was not prepared for when a massive object collided with him, pushing him onto the ground.

When Arthur turned his head to see his assailant, he saw that it was the brute of a tree, growing roots around him like a caged trap. Furious with the development, Arthur grabbed the root, about to give them the same treatment as the house, when he realized he was being push downwards until his whole body was flat against the ground, the tree roots snaking around his body like confined bounds.

Growling and trying move his body, Arthur leered at Rossi running out of his house. "Yeh bas! What the hell is wrong wit' yeh? Burnin' up me house like that! Have yeh lost yer marbles!"

Arthur smirked and laughed, continuing to glare at the eldest Kirkland, "That's what you get for being a sodding wanker."

"That ain't no reason ter burn a person's house yeh looney!"

"It's a perfectly understandable reason to do so."

"No it ain't! What's the matter wit' yeh yeh nut! Mad! Yeh've gone mad!"

"Me? Mad? What a bloody-fucking _HA-HA!"_ Arthur yelled, straining his voice towards his brother. "No! The fucking question is 'what the hell is with you' you fucking arsehole! You cocked up big time you good-for-nothing tosser!"

Arthur twisted his body around, trying to resist the tree roots swathed snugly around his being. But alas, his efforts where in vain when the tree responded back by squeezing him further onto the ground that he gasped in surprise at the compression against his chest. Arthur gritted his teeth, as even though the bounds became tighter, he grew heated by the minute.

"Bastard! Get this brute lug off me! My ribs are about to cave in!"

"Not until yeh tell me what the fuck got yeh so worked up about yeh ireful eejit!"

Arthur then sent a glare at the man before him, hissing under his breath. Rossi stared at Arthur before he realized what was happening and before he knew it, Arthur spit back a mini canon ball of fire towards the older Kirkland. Rossi dodged from the fireball's range and rolled towards the ground. Missing its trajectory, the fireball crashed into a nearby plant and the plant was engulfed in flames by the second.

"Nelly! Put out that fire!" Rossi shout towards the small grimy moat. And just as Rossi shouted, the massive shimmering Emblem stepped from the waters and crept onto the bank.

Making a sound that was similar to a whale, Nelly opened up her mouth and a forked tongue slipped out, and curled around itself as the Emblem began to swallow liters of the moss-covered water, her cheek swelling up by the motion. Turning towards the smoldering undergrowths, Nelly blasted the water through her tongue like a fire hose and drenched the flaming shrubberies. When the flames were out, Nelly repeated the same action with the house, but unfortunately the foundation of the house had crumpled up in the fire.

Rossi cursed at the poor condition of the house, with half the walls destroyed and the others critically scorched. His furniture was smoldered or in ash and his electronics were melted by the heat. Glass had broken from the immense heat and showering cold and black soot was scattered across and over the houses' remains. Rossi growled in distain.

Rossi walked up towards Arthur and flicked his wristed towards the tree. The tree responded back and the roots sprawled around Arthur dispensed and the weight upon him was lifted. Arthur heaved a sigh and got up to his knees to message his shoulders. However, before he knew it, he was tackled to the floor.

"Fuckin' bas! Cunty-buggery-fuck-toley-bum-shite! What the hell is wrong wit' yeh! Yeh can't go around getting' revenge for what yeh did long ago! Yeh got that!" Rossi shouted, the damage of the house being to great for him.

Rossi punched Arthur in the face, sending his hand towards Arthur's jaw. Arthur grunted and flared his nostrils at Rossi. Arthur struggled for a bit, trying to push off his brother as he received one punch after another. However, his anger boiled to the top, frustrated at the beating and a massive trail of fire emitted for his gut as he screamed in rage.

Rossi braved himself from the fire, but flew back by the pressure. Rossi winced from the third-degree burns, but put away the pain as Arthur charged forward with a punch. Rossi received a wind-blowing clout to his stomach and he gasped in surprise. In defense, he shoved Arthur away with a forceful push at his shoulders, but that didn't deter Arthur's thirst for blood.

When Arthur came in for another blow, Rossi ducked and kicked out his legs in order to throw Arthur off his feet. Arthur, as expected, lost his balance and fell with a _THUD_. Arthur groaned and Rossi pounced over Arthur and the two rolled over, struggling for the power of the fight.

Arthur hissed and kicked Rossi off. Rossi rolled over the ground and held his stomach in pain — he'd broken a rib. Rossi heaved as he breathed in for air and wheezed when Arthur kicked him down. Arthur was about to kick Rossi square in the face when Rossi's hand shot out and grabbed Arthur's ankle. Rossi pulled on Arthur's ankle and Arthur's skidded to the floor.

Rossi climbed over Arthur, grunted and hacking up a blood-filled spat and coughed it over Arthur. Pinning his legs against Arthur's shoulders, Rossi grabbed Arthur's head and used his other hand to hold Arthur by the neck. Nevertheless, Arthur would have none of this. Arthur brought out his hand and scratched Rossi hard across the neck, drawing out blood. Rossi hissed and drew back a hand to his neck and Arthur took it as a chance to toss Rossi off him.

Rossi fell back and groaned, his broken rib aching and swelling up with pain. Arthur stood back on his feet, stepping over Rossi, but before he could stomp down a foot, Rossi clapped his hands and something took hold of Arthur's waist and hoisted him off the ground.

Rossi got up to his feet and shakily walked over to his charred house. He walked through his cindered house and into the scalded halls and into a room, the walls burnt away to reveal the crisp body of the house's skeleton. Rossi exited the room, seemingly empty-handed and walked over to Arthur.

Rossi then flicked his wrist again and Arthur fell to the ground and Rossi came over behind Arthur and grabbed Arthur by the wrist. Arthur grunted when Rossi twisted his arm up behind his back and forcing Arthur to stay on the floor with his knee gabbing at his back. Arthur twisted and fussed in his brother's grasp, trying to wriggle out for his freedom. Rossi hissed in discomfort of his broken rib but he still kept his knee against Arthur's back, his hands pushing down on Arthur's neck and wrist.

"Now… What the fuck… Did Ay supposedly do… Ter make yeh… Such a… Fuck-faced babeh?" Rossi rasped, withdrawing a hand to clutch his stomach, face contorting in pain.

Arthur spat at the ground before him and writhed. "You know exactly what you did you gobshitting Jock!"

Rossi's mouth twitched and he decided to knee Arthur hard on the back, causing Arthur to grunt. "Be mo'e specific… Yeh radged nemptie… Or Ay'll clout yeh ova the heid, got it?"

"My. Wand. Is. Broken. You. Pillock." Arthur hissed, growling at his brother under his breath.

"Oh… Faeries… Must've done… A shite job then." Rossi said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"What!" Arthur yelled, looking horridly at Rossi. "You've _sent_ the faeries _to look_ for my _wand_! Is _that_ why they've been ignoring me!"

Rossi shrugged, wincing quite a bit. "It's a… big forest. Ay needed… All the help Ay cou' get."

"You blooming divvy of a fucking shite! You do not abuse the faeries! Do you hear me! They are not your PAs you dosser!"

"Oi… But they we'e so happy… Ter help their… wee eejit ahva arse-bandit."

"Don't call me that bastard! Do you not understand what has happened! Do you!?" Arthur yelled, getting annoyed by Rossi's lax attitude by the second.

"Like Ay said before… That is… yer own fault… From what yeh did…"

That was when Arthur had had enough of Rossi tomfoolery and one of many locks had broken. Using his might to toss off his brother, Arthur shoved his brother to the floor, feeling a new power raging through his hands.

"Bastard! Get it through your _thick skull _that this is _not_ a _joke! _You weren't serious about this from the start, were you! Do you have any idea of the consequences you've bestowed on me! Do you!?"Arthur yelled, fierce emerald eyes staring coldly into blue-green ones.

"Look! Ay don't feel… Like getting' inter this, got it?" Rossi growled, shifting his weight to roll over Arthur and pinning his arm under Arthur's jaw, who in return tried to pry them off. "Yeh… Got yerself into this mess… Not me."

Arthur glared at Rossi, trying his best to push him off. Right now, Arthur knew it was best to stay calm and have peace in mind, but all he could think about was bashing in Rossi's skull, which seemed like a very good idea at the moment. Releasing his grip on Rossi's hands, Arthur stared mischievously at his brother.

"What the hell… Is that look fer?"

Smirking at his brother's confusion, Arthur took it as a chance to strike and wrung his fingers around Rossi's throat. Taken by surprise, Rossi gasped and fell backwards, Arthur pouncing right after and digging his fingers into his neck. Wincing and struggling for breath, Rossi kicked and twisted to lose his youngest brother's grasp — Arthur chuckling sadistically as he knew Rossi couldn't hold it up for another moment.

Feeling a drip of blood run down his throat, Rossi sneered and shoved his hand down his pants-pocket and thrust the barrel of his Murdoch Scottish Pistol, which was in excellent condition and beautiful engraved in elaborate designs, into Arthur's ribs.

"S-st-op it! O-or Ay — sho-ot!" He choked out, gasping for air as Arthur's only reply was forcing his thumbs down onto Rossi's breathing tube.

Wheezing, sensing weakness overpowering him, Rossi closed his eyes and pulled the trigger, contorting up his face when the gun's abrupt sound blasted through the barrel and right into Arthur's chest cavity. Droplets of blood splattered over his face and Arthur slumped on the floor, blood drizzling down the entry wound. Disgusted, Rossi moved away from Arthur's body and got ups to his knees, wiping off any blood from his face and wincing.

"Fucking bajin…" Rossi huffed, closing his eyes. Soon, Luxitiner* appeared and he passed out through the portal — country-jumping to wherever for sanctuary.

**i**

**Wizard's Achievement Script Paper, or WASP* — a [fake] placement test that tests a wizard in order to place them in their corresponding grade at their wizardry school.**

**Luxitiner* — Latin: luc- bright, light; itiner- route, way; meaning "bright/light route"; the bright side of the portal, or country-jumping; when a Nation country-jumps, only he or she can see where they are going, which appears as a grey-scale scenery through the portal, to others, they see Luxitiner. Melahod is Luxitiner's "opposite".**

**ii**

**Hmm… I felt like this was a short chapter… And not very interesting… I don't like this chapter all that much... QnQ**

**But bear with me! Part 2 is going to be awesome! This chapter does correspond to Chapter Seven in Year Three. ;3**

**Eh… Part V isn't **_**all**_** that violent, but who knows how these ratings work for violence. :P**

**I wrote this while I was still in school (one and a half days prior to the last half-day of school). Now school's starting in TWO days. D:**

**Love,  
>DeiDeiArtistic<strong>

**P.S. Please bear with me even though this chapter wasn't much. :P**

**P.S.2 I love all of you that followed, fav'd and or reviewed this story! It means so much! X3**


	7. Not Serious Enough Part 2

**Harry Potter and the Man of Britannia**

**Chapter 5**

**Not Serious Enough**

**Part 2**

**DeiDeiArtistic: Continuation of Chapter Five! Well aren't you lucky~ Owo**

**Chapter Dedication: StargateNerd.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or Harry Potter, likewise any of the preexisting characters or places.  
>Claimer: I own the plot of this story and any fictional character or idea that is not mentioned in either Hetalia or Harry Potter.<br>Beta: SG-Chan (StargateNerd), who offered to pre-read this and tell me of my mistakes. X3 (However I do thank those who've offered to Beta this as well~)**

*****  
>WARNING: Use of personal headcanons.<br>*****

**I**

**A**rthur cringed and moaned at the pain in his chest. His body felt sore and if it wasn't, it was numb. His bones felt cracked and brittle while his muscles ached with inflammation. But the worst of the pain was emitting from his chest, more accurately his spine and chest cavity. His nerves were going haywire and needles were prickling through his skin. There, his skin felt so sensitive that even the air stung from its senseless touch.

But, aside from his physical wound, his head was producing a mind-throbbing migraine. His brains felt scattered and that some cruel being was churning them like batter. It swished side-to-side and balance was anything but steady. His stomach seemed to sense his unease because it began to violently contract and bind that Arthur woozily got up to his feet and barely made it to a bush to empty out his stomach contents.

Clutching his stomach, Arthur felt a thick stickiness at the touch of his fingers and when he looked at his hand, he saw it was covered by an abundant layer of blood. Arthur grimaced at the recall of his brother shooting him — as much as he hated it, it was a reasonable and rational thing to do. He had stepped over the line and that was his fault. Rossi was only doing a favor, an annoyingly painful favor.

Standing up, Arthur winced, "Bloody 'ell this 'urts." His Cockney accent had slipped through — though went unnoticed by the Englishman.

Clutching his head, Arthur dazedly looked around and saw that he was no longer in Rossi's house. He was surrounded by everlasting glades, floras scattering away orderly around, blooming wildly like madman. Vast oak trees provided shade from the grazing sun and the wind rustled through the leaves, whispering quietly. Ponds and lakes were in view as were small puddles, lily pads idly floating on the moist surfaces. Animals such as rabbits and hounds would occasionally cross by Arthur's presence but paid him no heed.

Arthur was in the Fae Kingdom.

The Fae Kingdom, alternately known as the Domain of the Fae or Fae Domain, was a rare sanctuary for anyone to every cross by, as it is "always moving". The Fae Kingdom was a realm of its own, just sharing a space with Earth. It was never in the same place for too long, always migrating to the next location. However, there was always a danger upon ever entering the Kingdom — time. Time was never constant and neither was the landscape. While only a few minutes passed in the Kingdom, hours _might_ have flown by Earth, or just a mere couple of seconds. Anytime one would turn around, a river became an ocean or a simple puddle. Nothing was ever safe or constant in the Fae Domain, which caused Arthur to worry in the highest of sense.

Slowly walking around, cupping the Domain's choice of flowers — white roses, Arthur flinched from the pain in his chest. Then, Arthur took a closer inspection of what the Kingdom decided to take appearance of, whatever riddles it felt like throwing at him. Arthur smile softly, the glades were filled with white roses stretching across the acres of land, and far away, he spotted a waterfall. The sky was aptly dark, perhaps dusk or the early dawn. However, his smile diminished at the sound of whispers and giggles.

"_Menace!"_

"_Menace!"_

"_Menace!"_

Clutching his fists, Arthur stared blankly at the ground, feeling sick to his stomach. _"Stop it. All of you stop it."_

"_Menace!"_

"_Menace!"_

"_Menace!"_

Arthur growled._ "Stop it."_

"_Menace!"_

"_Menace!"_

"_Menace!"_

"_Enough damn it!"_ Arthur growled before his gruff voiced turned into a series of coughs.

Turning around, looking for his hidden tormenters, Arthur smeared away the blood from his mouth. However from the sudden motion, he saw that in his current condition the motion was too much for him that he had lost balance and fell to the ground. Placing his hand over his wound, he felt blood beginning to seep through his clothes yet again. _'Fucking wanker for shooting me! When I see him I'm going to —'_ Arthur froze as he felt a presence before him.

"_England, please do finish that thought. We would just love to hear it." _A posh feminine voice said with a curt laugh.

"_Fae Queen… I… I'm sorry! I've lost my wand… and I felt it broke. I'm truly sorry!"_ England stuttered out ashamedly, watching his blood pool out onto the floor, refusing to look up.

"_Oh, we know. We broke it."_ The Fae Queen laughed, smiling sweetly at England.

"_What! Why would… Why would you do that? Surely you of all would know the consequences of it!"_

"_Oh… But we've been good for far too long! We long to be bad!"_ the Fae Queen laughed, smiling all too sweetly.

"_Alice! How could you? I thought I could trust you!"_ England yelled as the Fae Queen's subordinates (who were scattered in their hiding places among the undergrowths Nature has given them) gasped; hardly anyone was actually _allowed_ to use the Queen's name.

Alice was Queen of the Faeries, including Miss Faerie as well. Alice had beautiful long blonde hair that was pulled into twin pony-tails. With long bangs pulling away from her face with grass knots, she had sharp, slender eyebrows and brilliant emerald eyes and ruby-framed glasses. She wore a soft gown of blue and white rose petals over her modest figure. She had a pale but fair complexion and a stern look upon her face. She held a scepter made of gold and silver and held a jade inside. Her wings were a translucent white and red and gold swirls went about the veins of her wings. She only stood at 5.9 centimeters.

Alice frowned and drifted toward England, touching his chin with the tip of her scepter. _"Oh, but what of you dear? We trusted you to take care of the wand." _Alice pointed out,_ "And yet… Here it is, in our hands — lost and broken. You weren't serious about the deal either."_

"_I…"_ England was speechless. It _was_ their agreement. He had to give the absolute best care of his wand or he'd have to pay the consequences, along with everyone else. He lost it and Alice decided to break it. It was his fault to begin with.

"_We see you've come to understand what you've done. We will fix you're wand." _Alice said bluntly, starring at him with nothingness in her cold green eyes.

England stared at her with shook and a smile grew on his face. _"Oh! Alice! Thank you so much! Truly I—"_

"_We will fix it, but not right away."_ Alice interrupted, pulling back her scepter and looking at it fondly.

"_What do you mean? You possibly can't be serious."_ Arthur said, desperate that he had only just heard Alice wrong.

"_No,"_ Alice said with a cutesy smirk. _"We possibly can be serious. For now, you will live with the punishment until we feel like repairing your wand. Until then, we want to be bad!"_ With that, Alice began to laugh and the faeries around began to chant.

"_Menace!"_

"_Menace!"_

"_Menace!"_

**II**

England had long tuned out the chanting and simply stared blankly at Alice, her words echoing far off into his head like a broken record. _'Live with the punishment… Live with the punishment… Live with the punishment…'_

_"Anyway, England, would you like to stay?"_ Alice asked, not caring of how he felt at the moment. _"You hardly ever visit us and we miss you terribly. You rather play favorites with the humans than with us, your true friends."_

England blinked. He was utterly shocked at how Alice did whatever she pleased to. However, she wasn't the person to say "no" to. None of the faeries were. A faerie as your enemy was the worst type of enemy. Alice smiled knowingly as she looked at England, twirling her scepter around her fingers like a baton.

_"Alright," _England said grimly. _"I will."_

Alice clapped her hands together and smiled, _"Ladies, please prepare Mister England for our buffet!"_

The faeries cheered and Nazure appeared at England's front. Bringing out her hands, a chiming melody escaped her lips and England felt the world grow bigger beneath his feet. England stumbled a bit, his migraine coming back from the odd feelings around his body. Being shrunken down to the size of a mouse wasn't ever a pleasant feeling at first, but one becomes used to after a while.

When England felt ready to walk without another dizzy spell, England yelled out in surprise when a faerie suddenly popped up in front of him. She had short curly wheat-blonde locks and dazzling cerulean-blue eyes. She had sun-kissed skin and wore an outfit of white rose petal and sepals, covering her "busty" faerie-figure. Draped over her shoulders was a small pelt of brown fur, perhaps of a squirrel. In her hair seemed to be an herbaceous grass knot. She had translucent dark blue wings with sliver dots scattered around, sort of like the night sky. She wore a bright smile when she extended her hand towards England.

_"Hi! Imma new faerie an' you're tha first Nation I've ever did saw!"_ She had a loud voice and an energetic aura about her… It seemed sort of familiar…

England met her hand and she shook it with so much excitement that she was pretty much dragging him around like a rag doll. _"Well hello there to you too!"_ England said as she shook him eagerly. He winced and softly hissed from the recurrent pain around his wound.

_"Thanks Mistah England!"_ the faerie exclaimed with a smile, letting go of England.

_"Well, you can call me Arthur."_ Arthur said, posing a soft smile at the faerie.

_"Arthur England? That's a weird name dude. Eva think of changin' it?_" The faerie asked, pouting. _"Sure don't roll of tha tongue well. Arthur England. No, naht really."_

Arthur laughed, finding the new faerie quite childish. _"No, no. My name, or human name, is Arthur Kirkland, not Arthur England."_

The faerie blushed, _"Oh…That makes a lot more sense Mistah… But Imma just goin' to stick to callin' ya England, Mistah England."_

England smiled. The faerie was quite naïve, it was sort of charming, for a faerie anyway. However, her Fae dialect was horribly slurred… It was rather quite interesting. He never thought it possible to slur the language of the Fae. Perhaps it was that she hadn't mastered the language yet…

_"Well, seeing that you know my name, I should at least know yours. It's only proper."_

_"Oh! Yeah! Dude! That totally slipped my mind! Thanks for remindin' me."_ The faerie exclaimed, fluttering her wings and floating up a few centimeters from the ground. _"I don't have one!"_

_"How could you forget that you don't have a name?"_ England asked, looking at the faerie.

_"I dunno… It doesn't seem all that important." _The faerie flew back down and began to draw into the dirt below. _('Wait dirt? It was grass just a few seconds ago…'_)

_"Well, you should have a name. Who doesn't want a name?"_ England asked, looking at the faerie with a perplexed face.

_"Um… Me?"_ The faerie said, though her tone hinted confusion.

_"And why wouldn't you want a name? Names are a lovely thing."_ England persisted, looking at the faerie. However, England felt a little bit hypocritical. He could remember a time when his own monarch once asked him for his name, his informal name. Back then, England was highly offended for being asked such a thing. He was a nation, not a human. Why would he ever need a human name? Nevertheless, nowadays, he knows why…

The faerie crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. _"If names are so important to ya, why doncha name me?"_

England looked at the faerie firmly, _"Fine. Maybe I will."_

_"What?"_ The faerie blinked, taken aback.

_"You heard me."_

_"Ya can't just go and… name me!" _The faerie huffed, her cheeks tinting.

England chuckled. The faerie was too cute. _"And why not?"_

_"Um… Because Imma faerie that's why!"_

"_Your logic makes no sense."_

"_Ya make no sense!"_

England smiled. Honestly, the faerie was very childish despite her looks. _"Just let me name you, I promise it'll be a nice name."_

"_There are dumb names?"_ The faerie questioned.

"_Yes, like Francis."_ England said, rolling his eyes. _"Now, are you going to let me name you?"_

"_Sure, whatever…Just don't name me Francis 'cause then I'll have a stupid name."_

"_Alright then…"_ England began, inwardly smirking from the faerie's comment. Looking at the faerie some more, he studied her until a name would pop up into his mind.

What type of name suited her? Or rather, what name suited her? She was definitely eccentric, energetic and spunky. She was childish, but also had teenage qualities. Her wings made him think of the night sky sprinkled with white stars. They were large, but narrow at the tip — she was made to fly fast and for long periods of time. He looked at every trait and quirk she'd shown since they've met. He even thought about the way she slurred the Fae language from the lack of mastery, or perhaps the trouble of pronunciation. She also reminded him of someone. Someone who liked to be the bane in his life… could this possibly mean —?

England sighed, ending his search for a name. _"Alright then… How about… Amelia?"_

_"Amelia?"_ The faerie thought out loud._ "Amelia…Hmm… Amelia… Yeah! Amelia! I sure like the sound of Amelia! Has a nice ring to it! Amelia!"_The faerie exclaimed, laughing obnoxiously before bringing out her hand towards England, _"Hi! I'm Amelia! It's sure nice to meet ya Mistah England!"_

England laughed. The faerie, or Amelia now, really was childish. Grumpy one moment then excited the next. _"Well, hello there Amelia. It's very nice to meet you."_

"_Thanks!"_ Amelia smiled, before looking at Arthur a little closely. _"Hey, I've been meaning to, but why are ya all bloody-like?"_

"_Ah… Well, you could say I was in a fight and things got a little out of hand…"_ England explained, even if it was only just a sliver of information.

"_Well, let's get ya all healed up! I'll take ya to our healahs!"_

**III**

Amelia had grabbed England's hand, and like a whip, sped off dragging England like a rag-doll in the air. In the sudden lift-off, he'd cried out in surprise and pain, yet held tightly onto Amelia's iron grip. It was a little unnerving of how strong she was, to carry him like that… However, during their flight through the flourishing jungle, England screamed when Amelia ailed to see incoming faeries.

"_Holy fae!"_ Amelia screamed as she collided with another faerie, who seemed to have just popped out of nowhere. On instinct, she released England's hands and he fell hard onto the earth below him, she following right behind.

England gasped from the sudden impact of the coarse ground and froze in shock. The stress on his body was enough to allow the aching migraines to come back as his nerves were behaving recklessly from the fall. England groaned in pain and he felt his wounds began to bleed and he cupped his hand in the pooling blood. It seemed he might have broken something. Damn.

Hissing as his skin felt yet again sensitive to the air and all around him, he heard Amelia grumbling as she recollected her thoughts. _"Dude… what was that?" _Amelia asked, stretching out her wings and patting away dust. England silently cursed, Amelia seemed hardly affected by the fall, where it seemed he laid currently paralyzed. England scowled, carefully turning his head and jeered in pain. Today was not his lucky day, however it wasn't the foulest ones he's had.

"_Honey dew!"_ Squeaked a soft, but firm voice. _"How many times must I say to watch where you're going? You're too reckless! You need to slow down and pay attention for once!"_

England saw that to soft-spoken voice belonged to a strawberry blonde haired faerie. It was strange because she had a close resemblance to Amelia… In which that could have only meant one thing. England sighed. Faeries were never consistent nor where they inconsistent. But, this did make England inwardly smirk with a sense of victory. This meant that America believed in what he called "imaginary", and so did that other fellow — Michael was it?

The other fae had much longer hair than Amelia's hair; it was also more wavy then Amelia's. However, her hair was more strawberry blonde than wheat-blonde. A faint blushed dashed her pale skin and her soft violet eyes hid behind amethyst glasses. Red grass knows were pulling her hair back into identical pig-tails, so as not to fall into her face; however it did not fight against a strand loop of hair that bounced around from the slightest movement. She was clad in red lily petals, with was slightly speckled with dark dots. Her wings were quite small, but detailed a very brilliant, almost translucent white with soft glimmers of gold framing her delicate wings.

"_Huh?"_ Amelia asked, looking at the other faerie, before showing a face of pure glee. _"Matilda! Sweet, I found you!"_

Said faerie Matilda pouted, _"Are you listening to me?"_

Amelia grinned and flew towards Matilda, hugging her tightly. _"Dude! I have a name now! This guy over there named me! My name's now Amelia! Isn't that great!?"_

Matilda looked at Amelia confusedly, _"Amelia? Guy? Oh honeysuckle, what do you mean?"_

"_Um… I have a name now because Mistah England named me."_

Matilda gasped, _"A Nation? Where?"_

Amelia looked around and cringed, _"Er… He don't look good right now… But he did before…"_ Amelia's face scrunched up in slight horror. England had now thoroughly passed out on the floor, blood once again seeping from his wounds. _"Wow, how much blood could the guy lose?"_

"_Amelia! Mister England needs aid! Why didn't you bring him here sooner?" _Matilda huffed soft, fluttering down to England's side and looking worriedly at him.

"_Oh dear… Amelia, you're a fast flier, go find Marianne. She might be around the Queen, or at her vineyards."_ Matilda ordered in her soft tone of voice as she begun to tend to England.

Amelia quickly saluted and nodded her head, _"Right-o sistah!"_ The faerie then flew off to the Queen's home as Matilda carefully moved England into a more comfortable position so she could begin her work.

**IV**

Carefully lifting up his shirt, Matilda frowned as the blood was turning the ground below them into a shallow brook, the water diluting Arthur's odd scented blood. Blood always had odd powers in the Fae Kingdom. She wondered silently at the odd symbioses between National Blood and the Magical Kingdom.

Matilda traced her fingers over the tear in England's flesh; the skin was raw with anger and shimmering with scarlet tears. She dipped her hands into the shallow spring waters and gently poured them over Arthur's wounds, tapping her pixie dust into the blood-tainted waters to purify it and cleanse the wound of any impurities. The water splashed over the torn flesh and the blood began to glow and seep into England's skin.

Matilda sighed and wiped her brow, a dab of blood dripping down her face. She frowned and looked at her hands. They were covered in blood, both diluted and concentrated. She could smell the scent of the blood and it was truly the strangest scent she'd ever smelled. England was the first Nation she'd ever seen face-to-face; perhaps National Blood was something sacred, like unicorn blood. However, it wasn't a sin to attack a Nation like that to attack a unicorn. Or was it, like a rule meant to be broken by many?

Sniffing the blood, Matilda noted that the scent was quite attractive. Was this the reason why many creatures founds themselves subdued by Nations? The scent was nothing like she'd ever smelled before. It was bitter, but quite sweet. The scent burnt through her nostrils, however left a delicious aroma in its trail. It made her senses weaken, yet feel heightened all the same. All Matilda knew next was the little resistance she had over the scent; she craved more for it. With little knowledge of what she was doing, Matilda brought her hand towards her mouth. Just one little lick wouldn't hurt, right?

"_Stop."_

Matilda snapped out of her strange tense and turned around, flustered of wait she was about to do. It was the Queen who ordered her to stop and Matilda felt guilty and shameful. She wasn't sure what had happened exactly. "I'm sorry! I didn't know what was happening. It was oh so very strange, but I couldn't help myself!"

Alice shook her head_, "It's alright. Just don't do it again. And that means for every one of you. Understand?"_

Matilda shook her head yes, looking away in shame and feeling a bit flustered. It was then she found a gentle pair of arms enveloping her._"Marianne!"_ Matilda gasped, already knowing who it was.

"_Oui, oui 'ou silly girl. It's alright;_ _Maman_ _knows what to do for Monsieur Angleterre."_ Marianne smiled, petting Matilda's hair softly. _"Wash up and I'll tend to the fool."_

Marianne was a rather well-endowed faerie; her fair-skinned body was covered in petals of fleur-de-lis, a little white spider ornament placed above her left bosom. Her hair was fair brown and tied up in a bun, two needle-like thorns pinning up her hair, however he had bangs brushed beside her face. She was confident dark blue irises and a smile to match. Her wings were large and a semi-translucent royal purple, beautiful silver veins running through them.

Marianne knelt over to England and took out the thorns in her hair and the spider "ornament" sprung to life and crawled down her arm and jumped to the floor. Grabbing one of the thorns, she used its hooked-like end to carefully rasp at England's skin. Softly touching around Arthur's chest, she felt something move and sighed.

"'_E seems that 'e 'ad fractured a rib, but it looks like I can fix it._" Marianne informed. Grabbing her needle, she carefully used the sharp end to cut Arthur's skin. She and Matilda used their aqua-talents to keep Arthur's blood flow from pouring down. Marianne carefully peeled back the skin, grimacing a little, and located the fractured bone.

"_Lear,"*_ Marianne called out softly as she carefully began to tend to the cracked bone.

"_Y-Yes?"_ Called out a small voice, emanating from behind a mushroom plant.

"_Step out child — somebody is asking for your assistance." _The Queen said, staring at the mushroom the child was hiding behind.

"_Ek!"_ Cried out a small boy with sunflower-yellow hair that fell just below his ears. He had big jade-colored eyes and wore a soft-expression over his face. He was clad in a mixture of pink daisy and Camilla petals and tied to the side of his hair was a purple grass knot. He was small as were his wings — an almost translucent green that faded inwardly and lovely swirls decorated his wings with little dewdrop-like patterns.

"_Eh — S-Sorry!"_ Lear squeaked softly, looking down. He twiddled with his fingers, softly floating to Marianne as fluttered his small, delicate wings. He knelt down beside the older faerie. "So what would you like me to do?" Lear asked, looking at Marianne.

"_I need 'ou to mend Monsieur Angleterre's bone,"_ Marianne asked of the young faerie. _"Do 'ou think 'ou can do that?"_

Lear nodded, _"Ja, I think — No, I can do that."_ Lear edged closer to England and looked over the damage. A good amount of bone was broken and other pieces seemed to be missing — strange. He wondered how a chunk of bone could suddenly disappear…

Leaning over the cracked bone, Lean hovered his hand over it and began to rub his fingers and thumb together. Soon, from the action, small glistening particles began to drift down and over the fracture. As the glowing powder began to merge with the bone, a shining white light pulsed through the bone and a bridge of bone marrow formed between the walls of the crack and thickened until the bone was one again.

Pulling back from England, Lear smiled at his work. _"Done!"_

Marianne smiled and patted Lear's head, _"Such a good child. Oh, 'ou little earth faeries are so useful, aren't 'ou?"_

Lear smiled, beaming happily for doing a good job. _"Thank you."_

"_Alright, I need somebody to 'elp me turn 'im over."_ Marianne said, adding more silk to her needle.

"_I'll help because that's what good faeries do!"_ Amelia cheered, earning a scoff from Alice. Amelia hurried over to her fellow faeries and England, and knelt down before them. The two then carefully turned England and Amelia placed England's head into her lap, the last thing they need was him breathing in water.

Like before, Marianne grabbed her hooked needle and scraped England's skin, tugging carefully here and there. However, instead of sewing back the skin, Marianne followed her hunch and used her other needle to prod inside around the wound. Soon, after investigating the wound, she clicked her tongue.

"_It looks like the idiot has something lodged into 'is back, between the bones of 'is spine. It's disrupting 'is 'ealing process and the probable cause of 'is… temporary paralysis."_ Marianne informed, poking at the silver pellet that found itself stuck in England's lower back. _"Whatever it was, it shattered the moment it was shot into 'im, probably when it collided with 'is spine…"_

Matilda frowned, _"Will he be alright?"_

"_Will I be able to heal him?"_ Lear asked, looking worriedly at Marianne as he twiddled with his fingers. Marianne shook her head.

"_Non, long as 'e gets this object removed (maybe it was one of those 'uman bullets — a faulty one too…), 'is body will be able to 'eal properly and function as before 'e wounded 'imself."_ Marianne explained._"'Owever, I do not 'ave anything that would remove it; it's jammed in pretty well from what 'as already begun to 'eal. 'E needs another Being to fix this for 'im. But I must say 'is body is quite… Nice for an Englishman. Very attractive yes, but 'is eyebrows just kind of ruin it for me…"_

Alice huffed and crossed her arms unimpressed, _"Shut up you pixie pervert. So does that mean he won't be tending to our buffet?"_

"_Un, I am not a pixie pervert. I am simply critiquing 'is body. That is not a crime. Deux, 'e'd be in an uncomfortable pain…"_

"_Fine, he can go off and play with his other 'friends'!" _Alice fumed, glaring at Marianne._ "We don't care if he stays or not!"_

"_Well, I could use magic to remove —"_

"_No!"_ Alice hissed. _"He does not deserve such charity. Let him suffer! We don't care — not at all!"_

Lear twiddled his fingers and looked down as the women spoke, beginning to feel a tension rising. "_Um… Thank you for letting me help, but I must go or Vilma* vill get worried."_ Standing up from where he knelt, Lear bowed down to the women, and with a quick spurt, flew away with a trail of glimmering dust following behind.

As the young faerie flew away, Marianne sighed and continued on with her work. Clicking her tongue, her little spider climbed up her side and she pulled a needle close to the small spider. Said spider then wove a silk thread through the other thorn-needle and Marianne carefully began to stitch England's wound. The magical properties of her spider silk would help the wound help faster, however it didn't necessarily stop scars from forming…

Annoyed by all, Alice crossed her arms and looked at Matilda with scorn. _"Amelia — as you are so 'called' now — come along! You are in need of your literary lessons!"_

"_Actually, I'm Matilda…"_ The soft-spoken faerie said quietly.

Alice furrowed her brows, _"You changed your name already? Are you some persnickety pixie?"_

"_H_ey_! I am not a pixie! — And that's Matilda! I'm Amelia!"_ Amelia huffed.

The Faerie Queen's cheeks burned to see that she was mistaken, however, from her high sense of pride; she refused to acknowledge her mistake. As if she'd admit such an error of mistaking Matilda for Amelia. Huffing out an angry puff, Alice glared at Amelia and repeated her demand.

"_Amelia, come. You are in due of your literary lessons."_ She seethed, clearly annoyed.

Amelia puffed out her cheek and pouted at Alice, _"No! Those lessons are stupid and I don' wanna!"_

"_Stop behaving like some little human prat! You will follow our command, do you understand!" _Alice commanded, clutching her scepter tightly. Her patience was beginning to wear down to the point that she felt like bashing somebody's skull in with her scepter…

"_No! Why should I? Nothin's wrong with the way I speak! — Nobody cares about those stupid lessons anyways…"_ Ameila huffed, sending a stubborn glare at Alice.

"_Amelia!"_ Alice barked, raising her scepter in a threatening position.

Amelia flinched from the action, cowering slightly before realizing that Alice was not going to hit her. When she glanced at Alice, she saw her Queen folding her arms and wearing a bored expression over her face. A baffled look crossed Amelia's face, however she saw, or felt, that she would not be able to skip out of her lesson.

"_Come Amelia."_ Alice said once more, her tone quiet yet demanding — almost as if she was straining herself, almost though. Turning around, Alice resumed to her earlier leave — though with intentions of returning home with Amelia following behind.

Pouting, Amelia rolled her eyes and contorted her face, but nonetheless left after Alice, muttering incoherencies behind her. Matilda looked at England as Marianne placed a spider-silk cloth over the opened wound, rubbing in some pixie dust for the cloth to stay. This would have been an almost equivalent to the human's band-aid, however with magical properties.

"_This will numb the pain until 'e gets it properly treated. 'Owever, it's best to return 'im to the 'uman world,_ _bien ma chérie?"_ Marianne smiled, propping England up to lean on her shoulder as he spider returned to its place on her dress.

Matilda smiled softly. _"Oui Maman…"_

**VII**

When England awoke, he was lying of the grassy over fields of Hogwarts' clearing, no longer in the Forbidden Forest or Domain of the Fae. Weakly getting on his knees, England peered at his bloody self, however it seemed some of the blood had been washed away, but not by much. There wasn't much of an explanation for why there was a bullet in his back or why he'd gone off and run into the forest in the first place. Grimacing, England wearily got up and back to walk back towards Hogwarts, leaving a small traces of blood at his footsteps.

The walk towards Hogwarts was slow and frankly quite tiring. He didn't have the strength to walk such a far distance. He was still a couple meters away from Hogwarts, but with each step, the desire to collapse was becoming too tempting. He felt as if he could just subside at any moment but willed himself not to — he had far too much pride to allow himself to do such. Thus, he struggled on with his walk, limping at he did so, but this was only a minor wound — yes, it was quite uncomfortable, but he's had far much worst injuries.

Nearing Hogwarts, England braved himself for strange stares and questions and placed on his best poker face. Limping throughout the halls, England used the walls as a support as the students began to quickly murmur about the "bloody Muggle teacher", but England kept on casually greeting students from his class as if nothing was wrong. It wasn't soon before England heard faint crying echoing from the halls.

When he turned to see the source of the crying, he could also hear the echoes of "Stop" and such the like. It was only a matter of seconds that England felt that his heart stop and his mind began to shut down. He wasn't emotionally prepared for this. Actually, he never thought he'd ever have to prepare for such a thing. He didn't know how to respond or act, or feel, at the moment.

A young colonial America was running through the halls with tears running down his chubby cheeks and he was gripping at the robes that were clearly too large for him as they were dragging across the floor.

England felt his heart swarm with too many emotions it was difficult to react. One moment he was so happy to see the young boy, the one that held a special spot in his heart. However, he felt truly terrified; he didn't want young America near him. All the hurt, damage and pain the boy caused him. That was where he all felt hatred for seeing such an agonizing nostalgic face, the inner pain he was beginning to relive.

Young America seemed to have caught sight of England, where a fresh batch of tears burst from his young face. The young boy ran towards England, where England failed to make a run for it. He wouldn't fall for such a trap again. He wouldn't be wrapped around this deceitful liar of a child's finger.

But that was not the case, as the crying ex-colony drew closer to the former empire; England found that his locomotives were beginning to fail.

"—Arthur!" Little America cried as he flung himself onto Arthur, causing the two to fall backwards. Arthur hissed in pain as a wave of shock spiraled up his spine and small drips of blood seeped out his wounds.

Grunting, Arthur looked at America with pained a pained smile, "What's wrong lad? Dry up those tears. No need to cry Alfie."

Alfred looked up with watery eyes, "Wh-Where were y-y-you?" Alfred hiccuped, wiping some tears with the back of his hands. "When I woke up, there w-were an ah-ah-awful lot of st-strangers. Everywhere in queer clothing and y-you weren't there." A new fresh batch of tears erupted from Alfred as he cried mournfully, "I was scared and my clothes… They didn't fit no more." Alfred wrapped his arms around Arthur. "I missed you. Please don't go — don't go again."

Arthur looked at Alfred with shocked expression before soaking in the information. Indeed, the clothes had become too big for the currently-now boy as the collar of the cloak was beginning to slide off his shoulder, in which Arthur pulled back up. It was also noticed that Alfred was_only_ wearing the cloak that Arthur's protective feeling kicked in and finally wrapped his arms around the boy, ignoring the burning pain he was suffering from and the soft cries of Alfred.

Arthur did his best to console the child when he heard Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape rush down the hall only a matter of minutes after Alfred had come through there. When the two Hogwarts teacher came to the seen, McGonagall was out of breath and Snape was aloof with the whole matter (although he did look a tad tire, but he wouldn't let it on that he was.)

"Alfred—" McGonagall called out before taking a double check and letting out a gasp. "Professor Kirkland! What on Merlin's tomb happened to you?"

A strained smiled tugged at the corners of Arthur's lips, "That isn't important at the moment, but could you please explain why Alfred is a ch-child again?"

McGonagall blinked and began to sputter at the new Hogwarts professor, "Professor Kirkland, you need to get healed by Madam Pomfrey! You cannot go on about like this! Think of the students! You could be scaring the first years!"

Shaking his head, Arthur patted softly at Alfred's back, slowly getting up to his feet as he held the whimpering child. "Look, I'm fine." Arthur lied, the pain worsening from the heavy hold in his arms. "But the true matter is why is Alfie— Alfred like this?"

Professor Snape stepped forward and answered Arthur's question. "Against my instructions, or from his mere short attention span, Alfred on whatever whim drank the Shrinking Solution we where concocting in class." He said with disdain and looked at Alfred with an unimpressed look.

Arthur looked at Alfred as the little boy sniffed and frowned. "Well… Return Alfie— Alfred back to his regular self. I cannot stand to see him like this."

Alfred pulled back a little from Arthur's hold and gave him a confused yet hurt look. "W-What? You don't l-love me?" He asked, tears forming in his eyes. Arthur's face softened and he smiled softly, but painfully restrained.

"I love you plenty." He said, though it felt rather painful to say. Snape and McGonagall (and anyone else around) seemed to sense a certain element, but said nothing. However, Arthur leaned closer to Alfred's ear and whispered so that only Alfred could hear. "Don't you ever forget."

Alfred smiled, wiping away a few tears as he did so. "I love you too" He said softly, however his words held no type of doubt.

England tensed and looked at Alfred in a hurt fashion. "That's — that's nice to know Meri-Alfred." He said in strained voice. The America let out a flashy grin and wrapped his arms around England's neck, nuzzling into the older man's neck.

"Alright Arthur…" Alfred hummed softly as Arthur grimaced.

"Snape, I assume you have a potion to reverse the side effects?" Arthur asked, looking at the Potions Master almost desperately.

"Yes, although we'll have to head back somewhere… more private I assume? I have the antidote with me; however I suspect that Alfred would want his privacy." Snape suggested with little enthusiasm, looking at Arthur and Alfred with odd suspicion. He could feel that something wasn't right between them. He'd have to talk with Dumbledore and why the man ever allowed these two in the school, when little was known about them. Even Lucius seemed suspicious about the Hogwarts teacher…

"Thank you," Arthur thanked, following the Potions Master into the halls and back into Snape's office, Ms. McGonagall following quick behind as Alfred was a student of her house.

**VIII**

Settled into Snape's office, Alfred was circled by the Hogwarts teachers watching him closely. In his hand was the concoction that would "make since to everything he'd seen so far" as Arthur had told him. Trembling from the adults' stares, Alfred lifted the potion to his nose, and his face contorted into disgust. It smelt fouled and odd and just so unusual. Arthur wanted him to drink this? Was his mentor mad?

Feeling tears pile up in the corner of his eyes; Alfred looked up at Arthur, who in return looked with concern at him. "Do I… Do I have to drink this?" He question, looking at the vile in his hand.

"Yes, please do. Be a good boy and drink it up. Heroes aren't afraid of a mere vile of… medicine, are they?" Arthur said in a motherly tone, crouching down and smiling kindly at Alfred. To see the boy like this — He was at his weakness. Was this his Achilles' heel? He shook off the thought. "Now, drink up, alright?"

Alfred smiled weakly and nodded. "O-Okay…" He agreed, though a bit reluctant about it.

As he brought the vile to his lips, ignoring the smell as best he could, Alfred braved himself for the next moment. Taking a deep breath, Alfred tipped the vile up (as well as his head) and guzzled down the liquid. He scrunched up his face in disgust as he felt the liquid pour into his throat. It tasted almost as horrible as it smelled that he could feel himself choking up on it.* Nevertheless, Alfred was able to force himself to drink it all — only it came to Snape's misfortune because once Alfred finished the last dropped, he dropped the vile onto the ground, shattering it everywhere.

Alfred looked hesitantly at Snape. "Sorry…" He said with a small voice, however, he soon clutched his head and crouched to the floor. "Nngh… Mr. Eng-Arthur… My head hurts…" He moaned out before soon enough he blacked out onto the floor.

McGonagall looked at Snape. "Is he going to be alright?" She asked, wondering if that was that was supposed to happen. Looking at the broken glass that decorated the floor, she swiftly waved her wand until the glass was back to its original form as a vile, though now empty.

"Its affects differ differently between humans, animals, and inanimate objects." Snape's replied in a deadpan tone, picking up the vile from the floor.

"Ggh-ah…" Alfred groaned, feeling his body grow strange in a slow, yet fast paced manner. He body was aching and his head was pounding. Why did he drink that potion? All it did was just not what he had originally intended. When his body felt somewhat at ease, although he still felt clammy about the whole ordeal, Alfred slowly got up to his knees. "Ugh… My head feels like crap."

"Alfred." Arthur spoke, having watched young Alfred turn back into the present Alfred.

Alfred turned his head, grimacing slightly. "Yeah?"

Without a second warning, in no time was Alfred prepared for the next thing. The back of Arthur's palm quickly met Alfred's cheek, issuing a loud _SMACK_ filling the air. Professor McGonagall jumped back aghast; however Snape was quite calm about the whole situation, although quite intrigued of the matter of events.

Getting up without another word, Arthur left the room and into the halls. Professor McGonagall looked at Arthur's fleeting form, speechless of what has happened. However, after her shook she looked at Alfred, before quickly glancing at Snape and back to Alfred. She wasn't sure of what to think or say from Arthur's sudden action. Before long, she finally found her voice; however, it was right after the decision to follow Arthur to scold his behavior for hitting a student. ("Professor Kirkland! It's highly inappropriate to smack a student! Professor Kirkland!")

When McGonagall took her leave, only Snape and Alfred were left in the room, Alfred staying put in his position settled on the floor, staring blankly at the floor as he held his cheek. He was currently replying the event in his head, feeling a pang of regret but not taking back his actions. He knew he deserved that slap from Arthur. However he wondered how mad Arthur was. Soon, he was broken from his thoughts as Snape spoke up.

"Mr. Jones, would you care to explain, or leave my office?" He said coldly, staring down at Alfred.

Alfred looked up at Snape before looking down at the floor. "I… I'll get going… Uh sir." Alfred said, slowly getting up to his feet and strolling to the door. However, his whole atmosphere seemed somewhat dazed and confused, not sure of what he was doing. "I need to check up on Arthur…" He mumbled to himself; however the comment didn't go unheard, as Snape caught hold of it.

As Alfred left, Snape found the order of events intriguing — something to tell Lucius about. Settling himself at his desk, he took out a small roll or parchment and a quill. Dabbing the quill into a bottle of ink, he began right his letter to Lucius.

…

_Lucius Malfoy,_

_I write to inform you about the Kirkland man, as well at the Jones boy I've written to you about, has been acting strange lately, especially around Jones. Jones had turned himself into a child due to a Shrinking Solution and had fled from my classroom only to encounter Arthur. The next moments are strange between Kirkland and Jones, as the situation could be described as a private moment between a father and his son. However, that is impossible as Jones is only a few years younger that Kirkland. Furthermore, after Jones was returned to his original form, Kirkland had struck him in the face and left._

_I suspect that Kirkland and Jones share an usual history, however I cannot guess as to what it is. I do not trust either of the two as they are hiding something; however the fool seems to trust both Kirkland and Jones._

_If anything more is to come of Kirkland, I'll inform you right away._

_Severus Snape_

…

And with that, Snape rolled up his letter and left to the Owlry to send the letter to Lucius. Snape was sure Lucius would find the information interesting, as the scene that Arthur and Alfred shared was truly odd. However, he, like everybody else, wondered just who was Arthur Kirkland and why was he at Hogwarts. And what was Alfred's connection to Arthur other than through their Muggle jobs?

**i**

***Lear — Nyotalia Liechtenstein; an Earth faerie who is soft-spoken, shy but always happy to help.**

***Vilma — Nyotalia Swizterland; Lear's big protective sister with a nasty temper.**

***Just think of drinking Liquid NyQuil…**

**ii**

**So how was Part 2? I know it seems filler-like, but everything does have a point. Also, please note that Chapter 5 will have a Part 3 and perhaps even 4.**

**I like how this chapter turned out, but at the same time I don't because I'm not sure how well you guys would like the Nyotalia scene (because lots of people don't really like Nyotalia, but they're faeries so it's alright, right?) or just how the chapter went (because it seems like a filler and people hate fillers). ;u;**

**However, I'd also like to say thank you guys! You guys are the best — with the recent favs, follows, and of course reviews~! I hope I won't ever disappoint you guys in the future if I haven't already done so. ;w;**

—**DeiDeiArtistic**


	8. Not Serious Enough Part 3

**Harry Potter and the Man of Britannia**

**Chapter 5**

**Not Serious Enough**

**Part 3**

**DeiDeiArtistic: Last of Chapter 5 in correlation to Chapter 7 of HPPA**

**Chapter Dedication: Truth's Apprentice**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or Harry Potter, likewise any of the preexisting characters or places.  
>Claimer: I own the plot of this story and any fictional character or idea that is not mentioned in either Hetalia or Harry Potter. I also own Jonathan E. Anderson.<strong>

*****  
>WARNING: Part I is rated T for mild gore.<br>Part V is rated T for mild violence.  
>Part VII is rated T for mild adult themes.<br>Use of personal headcanons.  
>Unbeta'd<br>*****

**I**

**A**fter having left Snape's office, Alfred hurried over to Arthur's classroom (one of them at least). His mind was still going over what had happened; regret twisting his stomach into knots with needles attaching to his heart like a pin-cushion. He didn't mean for that to happen — well he did mean it, but not for it to come out like that. He knew Arthur favored his child self than his current self much to his dismay, so why was Arthur mad? Wouldn't he have been happier? However, of course, Arthur was far from happy. Alfred sighed. Arthur was so hard to please…

Nearing Arthur's room, Alfred passed by Professor McGonagall in the hall and turned his head away as to avoid looking at her. When he rounded up to Arthur's classroom, he found the door opened and peered inside. Arthur was standing at his desk, rummaging through a drawer for something. However, Arthur must've sensed his presence as he suddenly stopped what he was doing.

"Come in and close the door as you do so." Arthur said, though not moving a centimeter.

Alfred slightly jumped from Arthur's cold demeanor, however did as he was told and entered the room, closing the door as he went. However, when he looked back at Arthur, he found the Englishman stripping away his shirt.

"Woah — Um… Don't you think this is uh… All of a sudden?" Alfred said, moving a hand to cover his reddening face. "And what if somebody sees? I mean, I'm pretty sure the portraits are going to be gossiping about this, so—"

Arthur shifted his head to send Alfred a horrified face. "What the hell are you blabbering on about you imbecile! Fucking prat! I was shot and my shirt was dirtied! — Insolent git." Arthur fumed, folding the shirt onto his desk and next to the First Aid kit.

Alfred blinked. "Where'd you get the First Aid?"

"From my desk of course. Do you think I want Pomfrey to inquire as to how I was _shot_ by _a Muggle weapon_ on _wizard grounds_?" Arthur scoffed, rolling his eyes as he shuffled through the kit. "Come here, I need you to pry out some bullets chips."

"Dude who shot you — and ouch, the bullet broke?" Alfred asked as he hurried over to Arthur and given the First Aid.

Arthur settled himself on the edge of his desk as Alfred came behind him and expected the bullet wound, grimacing at the sight as he took out a steel scalpel and turned the blade to an angle as he tilted it towards the frayed skin that was beginning to heal. Without a word, Alfred applied pressure into the skin and dragged the blade across the pale skin with smeared rust-red blood. He heard Arthur hiss, but continued his work, creating a foreboding cross among the raw flesh that cried such thick tears. He peeled at the skin, scrapping along carefully, and scraped the bone in which was embedded with broken pieces of metal.

Inspecting the bullet pieces, Alfred furrowed his brow as he grabbed a pair of pliers and worked at the wedged metal, all the while, Arthur was gritting and hissing through his teeth. When Alfred was able to pull out a fragment piece, he examined the bullet piece.

"Think I know why the bullet broke. Not only is this thing super old, it seemed to have gone through some tough weather. Whoever shot you either didn't pay attention to the bullet that they used, or used it knowingly…" Alfred trailed off, setting aside the metal.

"Bastard," Arthur cursed, wincing only slightly as Alfred began working his way at dislodging the other pieces of metal. Each little nick Alfred caused as he scraped along the bone, it would send a prickling jab up his spinal cord. One particular nick caused Arthur's arm to spasm. "Careful at what you are doing, I don't need you paralyzing me." He scowled, looking at Alfred at the corner of his eye, as best he could at least.

"Hey, I'm doing my best." Alfred pouted, chipping away a bullet fragment. The chip loosened well enough for Alfred to pick it out, setting it aside next to the other piece. "So who shot you? You never told me." He asked, working on the rest of the bullet chips.

"Rossi," Arthur answered after a moment of silence, the only sound in the air was Alfred scraping and taping along his bones to remove the metal chips.

Alfred placed down the silver tools in his hand. "Scotty? He shot you? Why?"

"You know he hates it when you call him that." Arthur muttered.

"I know," Alfred admitted. "That's why I call him that."

That caused Arthur to chuckle, however just before flinching. With his wound still exposed to the nipping air and soreness all around, Arthur still found discomfort in his position, especially when Alfred nicked his spine again. "Are you almost done there? I'd like to be healed by the time class comes around."

Alfred blinked before flushing just the slightest. "Oh. Um… Almost— just need to stitch you up." Alfred muttered as he grabbed a disinfectant wipe and cleared the raw area, dabbing the skin carefully as he wiped away the blood that trickled down. Folding the cloth in quarters, Alfred set it aside to ready a needle and thread for stitching. Smoothing out Arthur's skin and pinched the ends, he poked the needle in and felt Arthur tighten up slightly under his touch as Alfred weaved the thread into his skin.

Although Arthur, or Alfred, were used to pain as mundane as simple stitches, it still left an uncomfortable sting, but it was bearable nonetheless.

"Done." Alfred said after a moment or two, grabbing another disinfectant wipe to clean up whatever blood was there. He took another wipe and used it to clean the surface of the scalpel, repeating the same process with the pliers and needle. When he was done, Alfred looked over at Arthur, only to find him gone. "What the—"

Turning and looking about, Alfred jumped when Melahod* appeared before him. Arthur soon appeared from the black abyss, wearing a new pressed shirt, a light grey-pinstriped, long-sleeved polo with a green waistcoat and a new pair of dark gray slacks. When Arthur stepped out from the portal, he flattened out his attire to get rid of any wrinkles and glanced at Alfred, who smiled sheepishly.

"Oh, there you are." Alfred muttered as he folded up the blood-smeared wipe in quarters. Holding out the folded wipes, Alfred offered them up to Arthur. "D'you want these? Or—?" He asked, giving them a little shake.

Arthur accepted the red-tinted cloth and strolled over to his desk and over to the First Aid kit and grabbing two small plastic baggies. "Yes, I'll bury these when I have the chance." Arthur said, placing the bloodied cloth inside the baggy and tossing it inside the kit. With the other baggy, he repeated the same process with the bullet chips.

"M'kay," Alfred said mindlessly, looking around. "So do you think you'll be alright? I mean, lots of people saw you like that, how are you going to handle that?" He asked, glancing at Arthur.

"Handle what?"

"Handle that, you know with the whole 'Ello, I apologize for bleeding on your floor Dumbledore' thing."

"I'm sorry; I don't know what you mean."

"Dude! I _just_ got done _pulling out_ the _bullets_ from your _back_ and gave you _stitches!_ Why are you acting dumb— Oh…" Alfred said, realizing what Arthur was doing.

Arthur shook his head, rolling his eyes. "It took you well enough."

"Hey…" Alfred mutter, sending Arthur a displeased look.

"Never mind that, I have a class to prepare — and shouldn't you be getting to class?" Arthur asked, going over his desk and picking up a leather-bounded book from it.

Alfred blinked before chuckling softly. "Oh not right know, but in the afternoon I have Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Arthur seemed to be perked up by that. "Oh really? Professor Lupin. Wonderful man he isn't he? A little quirky, however an alright bloke to drink with." Arthur mused, smiling. "Yesterday though, he was very eager for today. Something about his lesson plan… I wonder what he has planned for you all."

"I don't know, but whatever he's doing I hope it's awesome." Alfred said, grinning in anticipation.

Professor Lupin was an awesome and likeable man. Although there were days in which he looked as if he'd woken up from death, Lupin was handsome despite his greying hair. From the Golden Trio's remarks, Professor Lupin seemed to be the first who was actually capable to teach the Defense Against the Dark Arts class. The previous DADA professors had never stuck around long, though Lupin seemed quite promising.

"I'm sure it is…" Arthur muttered, flipping through the book in his hand to see what he'd be teaching that day. He'd had already taught about the time during his mother's time, as best as he could though. She left little for him to remember as she often sang about her history when he was young Albion* as she often called him.

(Of course Malfoy was always the thorn in his side whenever he taught, always insisting Arthur was mad and making everything up. However Arthur persisted he was not and if the Slytherin continued with his incessant behaviour he'd dock points from the Slytherin house — Malfoy promptly quieted down.)

As he looked through his time table, Arthur saw that as of today he'd start teaching about the revolts against magic kind during 410–937 A.D. (after the death of his mother Britannia*), or also known as the [Briton] Wizard Mutiny. When the Romans were leaving Britannia, remaining Romans, especially Roman wizards, were attacked by Britons (wizards respectively) who were imposed by the Roman wizards to stop casting any form of magic and they, by far, were very unforgiving folk.

Closing up the book, he laid it on his desk and turned towards the blackboard, reaching for a piece of chalk and writing down 'WIZARD MUTINY — 410–937 A.D.'. Alfred cocked his head as he read the text.

"Ah-yeah, this is your history-wizard stuff class, isn't it?" Alfred asked as Arthur began to prepare for his class.

"If you mean by a History of Magic class, then yes it's my 'history-wizard stuff' class." He mocked, as he took out a scroll of parchment from his desk and casted a duplicating spell. After the copies were made, Arthur went around his room to place a scroll down on each desk.

The original scroll was some brief information regarding how early Britons took Roman magi into their hands and took back Britannia from Rome. However, of course, there was much more than that. Britons were furious of the years Romans kept them under whip and treated like second class citizens. Civil wars, revolts, and invasions were what killed Britannia — the personified form that was.

Alfred pouted at Arthur's sarcasm, but said nothing, choosing to sit on Arthur's desk instead. "So where's Excal?" He asked, kicking his legs into the air back and forth.

"Either being pampered by the house elves in the kitchen or wandering around Hogwarts again — though I do believe he's being pampered at the moment, he loves the roast salmon they feed him." Arthur thought aloud.

Alfred laughed. "Aw, he's your cat — aren't you afraid he'll leave you for one day if he's always out?"

"Excalibur is a loyal cat," Arthur defended, pursing his lips into a pout. "He isn't just going to leave me for a bunch of house elves."

"Whatever you say," Alfred sang-song, ignoring the chalk that flung out and hit him square behind the head.

**II**

When Alfred had left to his DADA class, Professor Lupin was yet to be there. So, as the class waited for the professor to show up, Alfred was sitting around with the Golden Trio. Everyone was already settle for class, ready to start, however with Lupin MIA, they simply chatted for whatever time they had left before Professor Lupin arrived. Alfred was talking more about his great homeland of America [again] when Lupin finally arrived carry his old tattered briefcase. He settled down his briefcase on top of his desk and turned to the class with a small grin on his face. He still looked worn out and scruffy, however he didn't look like on the verge of death when he first arrived to Hogwarts.

"Good afternoon," Professor Lupin said with an eager grin, clapping his hands together and rubbing them together. "Would you please put all your books back in your bags. Today's will be a practical lesson. You will need only your wands." He instructed, looking around the room as the students filed all their belongings back into their rucksacks and held out only their wands.

Alfred exchanged a curious and confused look to Ron, Hermione, and Harry, wondering what exactly they would be doing. Were they going to learn a new spell? Was that the practical lesson? However, from what he heard from Ron, they had never had a practical lesson — unless that one time their teacher from the year before had let loose a cage filed with wild pixies.

As the class shuffled out of the classroom with their wands, the moment they rounded the corner Alfred cried in terror. Peeves the Poltergeist was sticking gum in a keyhole whilst also floating upside down in midair. His tongue was sticking out and he wore a wide Cheshire cat smile about his face.

While Hermione was trying to calm down Alfred, who was trying to walk back into the DADA room, Dean and Seamus tried their best to hold back Alfred. It was a surprising because Alfred was very resistant and he was dragging them back to the DADA class with him.

That Arthur said Peeves wouldn't do anything while he [Arthur] was at Hogwarts; Alfred couldn't help but see another empty promise. The poltergeist terrified him because this one had the ability to hurt him. Alfred was never fond of the supernatural and tried to best to deny it, but it was there and that's what terrified him, and he hated it.

"Alfred, calm down! It's only Peeves! He's not going to hurt you!" Hermione insisted and she walked before Alfred as said American walked back in return.

"Yes he is! You don't know what he's capable of!" Alfred cried out as he pushed forward, through dragged back by Dean, Seamus, Ron, and Harry.

"Alfred, he won't hurt you!" Harry added, trying to pull back the American. However, before anyone could do anything, Alfred shook them off and ran back into the DADA room.

"Alfred!" Seamus called out before turning back to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. "I'll go fetch him and try to calm him down, okay?" He said, leaving before following Alfred.

**III**

Back inside the DADA room, Alfred was hiding under his desk in fetal position. So what if he was a little scared of Peeves or ghosts? Why did that matter to others? Alfred clenched his sides and buried his face into his legs. However, despite that Alfred felt somewhat or rather guilty. He never knew whether to hate magic or to thank it.

"Alfred?" Harry called out; entering the room she had left not too long ago.

Alfred looked up and winced when he smacked his head against the desk. "Ow." He muttered as he rubbed the back of his head as he got out from under his seat. "Seamus?" He questioned when he saw Seamus standing in front of the door.

"Alfred, are you okay?" He asked, walking towards him.

"Hm? Um, yeah…" Alfred muttered as he stood up. "Yeah, I'm okay."

Seamus frowned and crossed his arms, clearly not believing in his story. "Alfred, I know you are not okay. If you were, you wouldn't be here, and you wouldn't have ran away from Peeves screaming like a little girl."

"Hey! I was totally not screaming like a little girl!"

"But you were running away from Peeves."

"No! I wasn't! I was… I left my wand here. And I came to get it." Alfred lied, taking out his wand.

Seamus laughed and walked over to Alfred's side, slinging his arms around Alfred's shoulder. "You already had your wand you goof. It's okay that you were scared. But look, Peeves isn't going to hurt you, and neither are the ghosts. They're friendly for Pete's sake!"

"What? No they aren't! They're going to hurt me and turn me into a zombie! I can't turn into a zombie!"

"Alfred, they aren't going to hurt you. I've been here for almost three years and none of the ghosts, or Peeves, have turned anyone into zombies. You're safe." Seamus urged, shaking Alfred's shoulder. "So what if ghosts make you cower and hide that tail of yours between your legs, everyone's afraid of something."

"Hey I do not cower or have a tail. I'm the Hero! Not some frightened cat!" Alfred scolded, furrowing his brows and pouting.

"Whatever you say." Seamus sang-song, laughing at Alfred's annoyance.

"But—"

"Alfred, you'll be safe," Seamus repeated before poking Alfred in the chest. Smiling, Seamus laughed. "Really, I don't know why you're attending Hogwarts if you can't handle seeing a ghost. I mean, heroes aren't afraid of ghosts, are they?"

"No, but they do have a weakness. My weakness is those who stay alive even though they're supposed to be dead." Alfred deadpanned, holding his sides as he shivered in fear.

Before Seamus could continue, Dean came into the room. "Hermione, Alfred. The class left into the staff room."

Alfred looked at Harry with uncertainty before Dean added, "Don't worry Alfred, Peeves is gone."

Alfred flushed with embarrassment, but he, Seamus, and Dean left the DADA room and Dean showed them toward the staff room that the class was in. When they entered the room, Lupin was explaining something about a "Boggart", but the class turned to look at the three students entering the room late.

"Eh-heh… Sorry about that…" He apologized lamely as he received odd stares from the class.

"Glad you could join us, now, step in with the class and I'll be happy to resume." Lupin said, motioning the three boys to join their peers.

Alfred paced over to the Golden Trio and Hermione was more than happy to tell Alfred what he missed in class and what a Boggart was. _'So a Boggart turns into what we fear? So like an abandoned McDonald's shaped Boggart?'_ Alfred grimaced, because that wasn't a pleasant thought to think of.

Soon, after being down with his explanation, Lupin advised the call to say out _"Riddikulus"_, without their wands, and Alfred cocked his head, but went along with it, calling out _"Riddikulus" _along with the class. After their short practice, Lupin called up Neville and asked him what he feared the most. The Gryffindor was so embarrassed and ashamed to admit that it was Snape while the class laughed at him for it. Alfred didn't exactly agree to that.

After explaining the Boggarts could only be defeated through the laughter and coaxed Neville of how to defeat his Boggat. The class laughed at the idea of Snape dressed like Neville's grandmother, however the laughter ceased when the wardrobe violently shook.

"If Neville is successful, the Boggart is likely to shift his attention to each of us in turn," said Professor Lupin. "I would like all of you to take a moment now to think of the thing that scares you most, and imagine how you might force it to look comical…"

**IV**

And the Professor's instructions, the class went silent with thought. Each pondered what they feared most. And how could they make whatever they feared funny. It was sort like an actual way to defeat one's manifesting fear or phobia. A test if they could win against their fears. But how does one laugh at the face of what terrifies them? And could they ever be read to face that fear?

Alfred thought for a moment. What did scare him the most? McDonald's closing down? Running out of snacks? Or Arthur never loving him? Or worst, ghosts? Would the Boggart turn into Peeves? But, how would he make Peeves, or ghost in general, look comedic? What if he made Peeves unable to move? But how was that funny? What if he made Peeves wear a dress? That would look funny. However, what if the actual Peeves saw? Alfred blanched. However, before Alfred could continue on his thoughts, he heard his name be called.

"Jones? Are you ready?" Lupin asked before turning to Neville. "Neville, we're going to back away. Let you have a clear field, all right? I'll call the next person forward…Everyone back, now, so Neville can get a clear shot —"

Like instructed, everyone, including Lupin, took a step back, leaving Neville all by himself in front of the wardrobe. The poor Gryffindor was trembling as he held his wand, staring at the wardrobe, which shook as violent as ever. Whatever was inside the wardrobe was desperate and eager to come out, and Neville looked like he was going to be sick.

Before Neville had any type of chance to faint, Professor Lupin was on the ready. "On the count of three, Neville," he warned. "One — two — three —now!" And with that, a shot spiraled from the professor's wand and hit the lock of the wardrobe, unlocking it and the class waited in silence now that the wardrobe stopped shaking.

Then, without any type of warning, the doors of the wardrobe burst open, causing a few students to involuntarily jump, and many watched a Boggart Snape step out of the wardrobe. Boggart or not, this Snape was as menacing as the real Snape. Cold eyes with a piercing gaze, a hooked nose, and an unwelcoming scowl upon his face. Without a word, the Boggart Snape began to reach inside his black robes as Neville coward before him.

_"R — R — Riddikulus!"_ Neville yelped, pointing his wand at the Boggart.

At the spell, a loud _CRACK_ was issued and the Boggart Snape jumped back. Snape was now adorn in a outrageously ridiculous outfit — a long green dress with lace-trimming, a large-brimmed hat topped with white mesh, and a massive cherry-red handbag with a crocodile-skin pattern. Looking at the new attire he was sporting, Snape looked at Neville with a confused face.

However, from the odd display, the class burst out in laughter. Never in their years would they have thought they would have seen the infamous Potion master in a ludicrous outfit like that. It was terribly unlikely, and yet there he was dressed like Neville's grandmother thanks to Neville, his grandmother and her fashion sense, the Boggart, and Professor Lupin for his lesson plan.

Alfred covered up his laughs as best he could, trying his best not to find the situation funny, but that was the point he guessed. Seeing Snape like this, he guessed he wouldn't be able to look at Snape with a serious face for a while. Not with this image popping up in his mind. Seeing the class was eager to try their own Boggart, Lupin quickly called up Parvati.

The Indian girl went up, prepared to face her Boggart, but the moment the Boggart Snape turned to her, another _CRACK_ was heard. Where Snape used to stand was now a mummy. Alfred inwardly cringed, and Parvati flinched. As the mummy limped over to her with its arms raised out, Parvati held out her wand and cried out firmly, _"Riddikulus!"_

Yet again, a _CRACK_ was heard and soon the mummy was nothing but a pile of dust and rotten bandages.

"Seamus!" Lupin called out and Seamus was soon out in front of the class, eager to take on the Boggart.

_CRACK_ and soon the Boggart was a banshee and with the shout of _"Riddikulus!"_, the banshee was without a voice.

One name after the other, Lupin called forth the students, who were more than happy to see their Boggarts defeated at the hands of them. Although some became timid to see the Boggart morph into what the feared most, the fear quickly died away and the students, in a since, defeated their fear.

With laughter arising from every morph and crack, the Boggart had changed into a rat that chased its tail with no success, a snake that danced wildly, and then a grotesque eyeball. The Boggart was undoubtedly confused, but that only seemed to encourage everyone.

Soon Dean was called up and the Boggart morphed into a severed hand, which soon began to walk around like a crab. Alfred chuckled at this as the hand reminded him of Thing*. With another shout (_"Riddikulus!"_) the severed hand was caught onto a mousetrap and Lupin called on Ron to step up.

Ron came forward with a sight jump to his step, but stepped back once the Boggart shaped itself into his worst nightmare and some students even cried in terror. A large hairy spider engulfed the room and Ron froze in front of the spider, simply staring at it as if he was ready for the spider to consume him. However, Ron pointed his wand at the giant beast and cried out _"Riddikulus!"_

The Boggart spider fell down and began to roll and bounce around the floor as its legs had disappeared. The floor bound spider then rolled up to Harry's feet, but then Lupin called on Alfred to go against. Sharing a look with Harry, Alfred shrugged and walked up, kicking the Boggart back as he did.

**V**

The moment the Boggart hit the floor, the Boggart morphed into Alfred's greatest fear — but it wasn't something he expected. Alfred cursed himself for not knowing any better. He shouldn't have been concerned with his mortal feelings. Materialistic fears were absolutely pointless to him, but he'd gotten rather careless over time that he's forgotten. He wasn't only Alfred F. Jones; he was America too and will always continue to be America.

Getting up to his feet and patting away dust was Jonathan E. Anderson* — the Confederate States of America, Confederacy for short.

America and Confederacy stared of at each other, the Confederacy wore a grin across his face while America scowled. Confederacy was dress in his grey uniform adorned with mock medals. In his hand was a large gold staff that waved around the betraying and brainwashing flag of the rebel, gold tassels framing the Confederate flag. The Confederate States looked very similar to America; however, his hair was paler as was his skin, and his eyes looked more grey than blue, and he had no Nantucket. It was also notable that he was a some shorter than America, but not too short.

Confederacy had a cocky look about him; in his mouth was a piece of tobacco and his skin was scuffed with smudges of dirt. His hands were far more calloused than America's, and parts of his uniform were torn, but sewn back together. He held no rifle or musket, but he did have a sword tucked in its sheath at his side. However, the more Confederacy and America stared off at each other, the smile the rebel worn began to fade and turned more into a glower.

He began to look more heated with pent up rage and gave America an accusing look.

America's greatest fear was civil war and the rebirth of the Confederacy.

Stepping forward, Confederacy waved around his flag, the class gasped when the pointed the sharp point of his flag at America's face, and angry, power-driven look painting Confederacy's face with fire burning in his eyes. Confederacy was anger and America could feel it. It made him sick to see the deceiver before him, so smacking aside the staff, America hand went behind to grab his gun, however found a wand instead.

The Confederate States of America charged forward, taking a large swing of his staff to hit America, but America took out his wand and waved it at Confederacy.

_"RIDDIKULUS!"_ America raged at the crack of the spell.

The Boggart Confederacy looked at America with slight confusion, as nothing happened, but soon, the gold staff the Confederacy held began to turn a vivid glowing red and the Confederacy dropped the staff with blistering hands. The gold staff began to melt and curl into a ball and the flag it held began to catch on fire and the fabric began to burn and turn to ash.

The moment the flag began to burn, the Boggart Confederacy began to burn as well. The Confederacy was on his knees, yelling as his flesh burned and looked up at America to ask "Why?", however let out an angry shout, one that could rival a banshee's, and clawed at his face as his flesh burned away until nothing was left but charred bone, melted metal, and ash.

All the while, America watched silently as he watched his old enemy cease to exist — again.

The class watched in silence, some horrified and confused by what they had seen, America stepped back as Lupin stepped in front of the Boggart and the Boggart sprang back to life, changing into large, white glowing orb that floated in midair.

"Are you okay Alfred? Who was that?" Hermione whispered, looking at Alfred with concern.

Alfred shrugged. "Yeah, I'm okay. — and it was no one." He said dully, which was quite off-putting to Hermione. Alfred then turned to look at Professor Lupin and his Boggart, but Hermione was still looking at Alfred with an unconvinced face.

"If you say so…" Hermione said, turning back her attention to the Boggart and Professor Lupin.

Looking at the orb with an unimpressed look, Lupin said out with a bored, almost expecting, expression, "_Riddikulus."_

With a snap, the orb feel to the floor as a mere roach and the professor called up Neville once more. "Forward, Neville, and finish him off!"

Neville stepped forward in front of the class, although unlike before, he was ready to face his Boggart. In fact, after the Boggart morphed into Snape, Neville didn't cower or shiver, instead he looked far more determined that he took a stepped forward and held out his wand determinedly.

"_Riddikulus!"_ He shouted and for the second time that day, the class saw Snape in his wacky outfit and Neville let out a confident and loud laugh that the Boggart had burst into ash and little steams of smoke rose through the air, and thus, the Boggart was finally defeated.

"Excellent!" cried Professor Lupin as the class broke into applause. "Excellent, Neville. Well done, everyone…Let me see…five points to Gryffindor for every person to tackle the Boggart — ten for Neville because he did it twice…and five each to Hermione and Harry…"

**VI**

As everyone left the staff room, everyone was chattering excitedly about what had happened in the staff room. They were all reliving the moments and retelling what they had saw and felt during their lesson with the Boggart.

Everyone seemed happy with the lesson except Alfred, Harry, and Hermione. Ron on the other hand was talking vividly about how he handled his Boggart as the four walked back to the DADA room to collect their things. He couldn't even believe that he was able to defeat a spider that big!

"Can you believe it? I made that spider look like it was only half a millimeter big! Of course I knew I could defeat it." Ron said, crossing his arms with a confident look.

Harry and Hermione shared a knowing look but said nothing. Alfred rolled his eyes, but chuckled softly.

As they entered the DADA room, when Alfred was collecting his things, he looked up when Ron said something to him.

"Hey Alfred, who was that bloke, that uh… Your Boggart." Ron said, scratching the back of his head as he wasn't exactly going to ask, "Hey who was that bloke that you had burn to his [fake] death?"

Alfred blinked and stood straight. "He's no one." Alfred answered, looking around and shifting his feet.

"Was he you? He looked a bit like you." Ron asked.

Alfred jumped and looked at Ron wide-eyed. "WHAT!? No of course he's not me! He'll never be me! _Not ever!_" He cried out, mortified.

Not wanting to continue the conversation, Alfred quickly left the room with another room and the trio looked at each other sharing a look of confusion.

"Well… That was odd." He said after a moment of silence.

"Yes. Yes it was." Hermione added, looking at Ron. "Perhaps we shouldn't ask again. Some fears are meant to say secret and unexplained." She said with an accusing tone.

Ron furrowed his brows and waved his hands. "What? What did I do?"

"Nothing…" Hermione sighed, grabbing her books and what not.

Ron looked at Harry as to ask of why what he had done was wrong when Hermione said aloud.

"He [Professor Lupin] seems like a very good teacher," said Hermione approvingly. "But I wish I could have had a turn with the Boggart —"

"What would it have been for you?" said Ron, snickering…

**VII**

As Alfred left back to Arthur's History of Magic class, Alfred waited until all of Arthur's students left the room. Entering Arthur's room, Alfred promptly closed the door and walked towards Arthur.

"Alfred? What are you doing here?" Arthur asked and he was erasing the chalk board. Something about Roman Wizards capturing British Wizards and killing them…

Without answering Arthur's question, Alfred walked right up to Arthur and wrapped his arms around him, burying his face into Arthur's neck. Arthur tried to push away Alfred, but the American was stubborn to let go.

"Alfred! Have you lost your mind! What the hell do you think you're doing you daft pillock?" Arthur fumed as he tried to push away Alfred, wincing as his wound was still in the process of healing.

However, he stopped trying to push away Alfred when he felt the other one trembling. Smoothing out the other's uniform, Arthur softly patted Alfred back as he allowed the other to hug him, obviously for comfort than for any other reason.

"Alfred?" He whispered softly as he heard the other cry softly. It was odd to hear Alfred cry, but not something he hasn't seen before. "Alfred, tell me, what's wrong?"

Alfred didn't say anything nor did he move. However after a moment, Alfred said out shakily. "I saw him again — Anderson."

Arthur blinked. Anderson? What was so scary about him that made him — Oh. He hadn't heard that name in a while. And Alfred just came back from Lupin's Boggart lesson, didn't he? Arthur continued to stroke Alfred's back. He would have never guessed Anderson to be Alfred's greatest fear… But then it was completely understandable.

"And what did you do?" Arthur asked, wrapping an arm around Alfred, resting his chin comfortably on Alfred's shoulder. There was hardly a height difference between him and Alfred, so neither had to tip-toe or hunch over.

"…I said the spell Lupin told us to say and watched Anderson and his flag burn."

Arthur's eyes widen and he stopped patting Alfred. "Alfred! That was — that was — you know there were children there! To show them such gore is heinous!" Arthur gasped, arching his neck slightly to look at Alfred through the corner of his eye, though he could really only see the back of Alfred's ear given their position. "You know better than that!"

"I know… I just…I didn't want to see him. I wanted him gone and I just felt so angry and scared. Scared that he'd come back again." Alfred cried out, hugging Arthur tightly.

Arthur grimaced. "Ah-ah! Alfred — careful, my wound hasn't healed yet." Arthur choked out, trying to pull back Alfred. When Alfred loosened his hold on Arthur, Arthur sighed in relief. "I know you must've felt terrified and angry. He split your states and created years of panic for you, but he's gone. It's been years since then and he isn't going to just come out of the blue."

"But he could." Alfred murmured, fear evident in his voice.

"And if he did, he would have a hard time adjusting to the world we live in now. You evolved. He didn't."

"And how are you so sure?" Alfred asked, pulling away. "How do you know he won't come back and replace me?"

Arthur leered. "Nobody will ever replace you, do you hear me? Hypothetically, if Anderson were to comeback, who would stand by his side? Your states love you, a little rebellious yes, but they're loyal to you are they not?

"And what about Kiku? The two of you play video games and read those comic books, not to mention with the Frog as well. What about your brother, mother, and Violeta? Yes you have your quarrels, but you spend time with them. Face it, you have more allies and friends than Anderson could get in this time and age. And even if he could get some to stand by him, you — not him — are a world superpower! Act like it!"

Alfred was speechless and simply stared at Arthur. Who knew he would get so made about this? However, Alfred's eyes widened when Arthur cupped his cheeks to stare him in the eye.

"Now, are you going to stop this nonsense?" Arthur asked sternly.

Alfred didn't say anything.

_"Answer me when I talk to you,"_ Arthur hissed, shaking Alfred's head a little.

"Y-Yeah." Alfred said, blinking away some tears and placing his hands over Arthur's.

At that, Arthur sighed and looked at Alfred sadly. To see Alfred broken down like this was so unlike him. So human…

Thumbing away some tears, Arthur simply gazed at Alfred, turning his head every which way. Patting Alfred's cheek, Arthur smiled softly, beginning his hands down. "Cheer up lad, we all go through things we'd rather avoid." He said knowingly. "We all have our bad days and our good days, but none of us can pretend not to be bothered by our past.

"Now, I'm not saying that it's silly to fret over things like this, or that we should forget them. It's our job to remember these things and we have a set of choices given to us. We either fight and make sure it never happens again; we allow it to happen and allow ourselves to meet to our fates; or we adapt.

"Now, what are you going to do?"

Alfred thought for a moment before nodding. "It's okay. I know where you're getting at."

"Good, but I don't want you going about the rest of the day like some depressed ninny. So I'll only do this _once_, do you understand?" Arthur said before cupping Alfred's cheeks and bringing the American's head towards his.

He was glad Alfred wasn't too tall, so it made it less awkward. Closing his eyes and tilting Alfred's head, Arthur opened his mouth and pursed his lips slightly, he moved forward. Feeling his lips brush softly against Alfred's, Arthur opened his eyes when he felt himself being pushed away gently and never meeting Alfred's lips.

Looking at Alfred for an explanation, he blinked in confusion when he saw Alfred smiling.

"What are you smiling for? I haven't even kissed you." He asked, feeling confused by Alfred's actions. Normally Alfred wanted Arthur to kiss him.

"But you were about to, and that made me happy, but…" Alfred trailed off, trying to remove any type of tear tracks on his face with his sleeve. "But for the wrong reasons. I don't want a kiss from pity or one just for the sake that I won't walk around like a 'depressed ninny'. I want a kiss because you want to kiss me, not a little pity kiss." He finished, explaining his reason for stopping Arthur.

Arthur folded his arms and rolled his eyes in disbelief. "That's completely stupid. A kiss is a kiss no matter what the reason. 'Pity kiss'. Unbelievable."

Alfred laughed. "Maybe I'll make you see one day Artie, until then, keep thinking that a 'kiss is a kiss', because it's not."

"It's _Arthur_ and stop acting as if _you_ know everything!" Arthur growled, clenching his fists.

"Maybe I don't know everything, but I certainly know a few things. Maybe that's why you're getting annoyed. That I know something you don't." Alfred smirked, looking at Arthur playfully.

"Oh you insufferable little prat! It's like you want me to hit you!" Arthur huffed, turning his back on Alfred, but wincing slightly from his wound.

"Ha! Do you want to kiss me? Or hit me? Make up your mind old man!" Alfred laughed; ignoring the angry look Arthur flashed him. "So, dija bury those wipes yet?" He asked, changing the subject completely

"Hm? Ah, yes. Just outside the courtyard," Arthur said, taking a seat in his chair. "It'll probably take a month or two until anyone notices anything."

Alfred nodded before something occurred to him. "Wait, when did you have the time to bury them?"

"I excused myself from class with the lie that I had to go to the loo, but I sent a doppelgänger to quickly go bury the wipes." Arthur explained.

"Oh…" Alfred thought aloud, shifting on his feet.

"A clone Alfred," Arthur sighed, placing his elbow on his desk and resting his head on his palm.

Alfred flushed. "Hey! I know what a doppelgänger is!" He huffed, pouting at Arthur.

However, Arthur never answered and was staring out the window.

Alfred clenched his fists and stamped his foot. Puffing out his cheeks, he turned red. "Hey! Don't ignore me!" He cried out.

Though, unknown to Alfred, Arthur was quietly chuckling to himself, finding the American's annoyance and wanting to be the center of Arthur's attention to be quite cute… Not that he thought Alfred was cute. Just cute in a stupid way.

**i**

**Melahod* — Greek: melan- dark, black; hodo- path, gateway; meaning "dark/bright path/gateway"**

**Luxitiner* — Latin: luc- bright, light; itiner- route, way; meaning "bright/light route"**

**Albion* — An old name for the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, but corresponded more to England.**

**Britannia* — England deceased mother; an old name for United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, but corresponded more around Great Britain; there was also a province named after her as well.**

**Thing* — Thing as in the Thing from the Addams Family. (Owo)**

**Jonathan E. Anderson* — The Confederate States of America; my headcanon name for the Confederacy, and the way he looks is also how I picture him.**

**ii**

**You guys should love me because originally this was going to be five-six pages, but I made it longer and added a certain part or two so I wouldn't disappoint you guys. =_=**

**(Also that it bugged me because it was almost about to be five-to-six pages)**

**So yeah, I busted my brain to see who I could possibly make it longer because if not, this would have been posted **_**days**_** ago!**

**I also gave you parts to fangirl about, so yay me. =3=**

**Also, this is the last part of Chapter 5, see next is Chapter 6 (Chapter 8 to HPPA).**

**iii**

**So, some screen time for Seamus! I figured he and Alfred would be like buds. Owo**

**Also, how do you like Alfred cockblocking himself, eh? ;3**


	9. Respectful and Suspicious Part 1

**Harry Potter and the Man of Britannia**

**Chapter 6**

**Respectful and Suspicious**

**Part 1**

**DeiDeiArtistic: New Chapter! :D Also, this starts off as mostly Alfred's POV. Also, I meant to post this on Arthur's birthday, but FF decided to like crash around 9-10 o'clock! XP Anyway, happy late birthday Arthur!**

**Chapter Dedication: SilverLunaMoon**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or Harry Potter, likewise any of the preexisting characters or places.  
>Claimer: I own the plot of this story and any fictional character or idea that is not mentioned in either Hetalia or Harry Potter.<strong>

*****  
>WARNING: Part IV is rated T for mild innuendos.<br>Use of personal headcanons.  
>Possible OOC characters; mentions of OCs.<br>Unbeta'd.  
>***<strong>

**I**

**I**t had been some weeks after Alfred's, or anyone's, time with the Boggart, but it was clear Professor Lupin was the school's most favorite teacher. His lessons were fun and entertaining; and despite that every now and then, Alfred caused some sort of trouble, nearly everyone got along well with the lessons. However, the only people who persisted to bad mouth the professor were Malfoy and his gang, as well as the rest of the Slytherins.

While Alfred found Malfoy's antics pathetic and annoying, nobody cared to listen of Malfoy's criticism towards Lupin's attire or appearance. Arthur also chipped in Lupin's defense, claiming "that a man's attire had nothing to do with how much of a splendid professor his was", in which many of the students agreed with him. Still, that never stopped Malfoy or any of the Slytherins bad mouthing Lupin.

Though, weeks from the encounter of the Boggart, Snape has been in a particularly foul mood. It was rumored that the story of the Boggart taking Snape's form and Neville dressing the Boggart into his grandmother's clothes had reached Professor Snape in no time. And predictably, Snape did not found the situation amusing. Whenever Lupin was mentioned, Snape would scowl, and when Neville was near, Snape would bully the boy even worse than before, and Alfred felt bad for that.

From his time there, Alfred was doing well in his classes, despite his occasional slip ups, and nearly all the students and teacher made sure to watch him whenever a vial or potion was near… DADA was entertaining and the spells were handy. Charms, Herbology, and Potions were okay, but Alfred was able to get by, even when his peers were watching his every move. Okay sure, he _did_ drop about some ten Puffapods that sprouted right away as they hit the floor, but it was an accident. He didn't mean to drop them, it just happened. And okay perhaps he _did_ cast some cheering charms on the Slytherins (and Arthur), but in his defense he "needed the practice".

But the classes that interested Alfred the most were what he thought were the more fun courses. Transfiguration was a fun class, a little tricky, but Alfred had fun relearning how to transform one object into another, and Professor McGonagall was a nice woman, even if she was rather strict. But from his stunts every now and then, McGonagall became stricter with Alfred of using transfigurations outside of class. The last thing she wanted was Alfred transfiguring objects without permission. Still, despite Alfred's constant arguments that a "hero doesn't vandalize", McGonagall would simply nod and encourage Alfred to keep to his word.

Then there was the Care of Magical Creatures. At first, Alfred the class would be fun, like taking care of dragons or something, but after something about some Hippogriff attack, the lessons were dull or "so fucking boring" in Alfred's words. When the class wasn't taking care of their flobberworms, they were taking notes or reading chapters from their _Monster Book of Monsters_. In the book they would read about amazing and cool creatures and Alfred thought when could they take care of _those_ creatures? And much less, how could he make sure his book didn't try to eat his hand every time he went to open it— or rather grab it since all he had to do was stroke the spine to open it.

Ancient Runes was another class he liked, he found it interesting and Arthur actually praised Alfred for taking. He said learning another's runes led to worlds unknown to him. Alfred silently snickered because he'd recognize some of the symbols from what he'd seen in Tonny's lab back home. (Mind you the lab was in his home's basement since technically Tonny* didn't exist to the government… Or any government for a matter of fact.) So because of Tonny, of course Alfred had to take the class. He wanted to see if other aliens like Tonny had been on earth and why! Whenever he asked the alien about others like him, he would answer with broad and vague terms. He wondered why though… But nonetheless, perhaps taking this class he would be able find clues and maybe he might discover something!

And then there was also a History of Magic. The subject itself was interesting, though he was more interested in staring at the professor's ass than at the blackboard. But then again, Arthur taught that class, so if he missed anything, he could always go to him, with or without permission. But then Alfred wondered how exactly old was Arthur if he knew all this. He knew Arthur, or England, lived since back the Medieval Ages, but even further than that? Still, Alfred couldn't help himself when it came to bothering Arthur in class. Whereas he would ask the same questions over and over or make jokes in the class as Arthur taught. However there were times Alfred would push Arthur's buttons too far and he either had chalk pelted at him or suddenly found himself to be mute.

Yet even if staring at Arthur's ass was a nice pass time, Astronomy was his most favorite. He pretty much had that class in a bag. He knew almost all there was about the stars and space. Not to mention, having spent long years cooperating with NASA, Alfred knew all there is to know. He knew the constellations, the names of the stars, the type of stars, and even the planets and their moons. And the class would also bring him to cloud nine whenever he thought back to his adventures in space… However, nobody at Hogwarts knew of this, sans Arthur, and just assumed he was an avid student when it came to space. Still, Alfred couldn't see why kids thought this class was boring. He already knew this stuff already but he _still_ found it amazing. There was so much more about space than bright pretty stars and the old philosophy about them.

So from his time in Hogwarts, Alfred more or less had an amazing time and he made a great friend too! Luna Lovegood. Alfred couldn't figure why people would think she's a little weird, he thought she was pretty fun! If she ever meets Tonny, he thought she would like him. She would probably also like Gilbert and Matthias. Heck! She'll probably like all the other Nations! She seemed interested in that sort of thing, even if magic and science were rather different… But nonetheless Alfred liked Luna (and not just because she agreed to help him win Arthur's heart) — even if she did say odd things.

…

"_Sometimes people don't see eye-to-eye, but that's because they're blind. Professor Kirkland isn't blind, but he's in a dark light. Still…You seem to be blind— and I don't mean by your eyesight." Luna said as she read The Quibbler._

"_What do you mean by that? Arthur looks fine to me." Alfred said as he tried reading The Quibbler upside down. He still was trying to figure out how Luna read it. It was beginning to hurt his eyes. If he kept reading it like this, he would surely go blind. "I mean, I can see fine, so…"_

_Luna shook her head and set aside the odd magazine. "No, no. Heliopaths seemed taken an interest in Professor Kirkland. Despite the cold weather, Professor Kirkland has been making his classrooms very cold, surely you noticed this." She pointed out, crossing her arms._

_Alfred thought long and hard for a moment. "True… I started to bring an extra sweater for his class, but Arthur's just weird like that. He's always doing something weird." Alfred said, brushing off what Luna had said. "Also, what's a heliopath?"_

"_It's a large fire spirit." She answered simply before picking up her copy of The Quibbler._

"_Oh…" Alfred said, turning The Quibbler right-side up. However when he looked at the pages, Alfred blinked when he could barely make out the words. Rubbing his eyes, Alfred blinked a couple times. Man, reading upside down was not something he would recommend to anyone. It seriously puts a strain on your eyes…_

…

However, it was now October and Alfred could just see everyone growing excited for Quidditch season, especially Harry. Alfred already knew what Quidditch was, but he wasn't that excited for it as everyone else seemed to be. It wasn't much of a popular sport back in his States, probably because most of his wizard schools were very different from schools like Hogwarts. But then again, Alfred liked to work against the crowd than with it, so that probably added to it as well.

The Gryffindors seemed very keen on winning the Quidditch cup, and so did the Slytherins. The rivalry between them was so thick it was tangible to grab it and twist it like a balloon. The Quidditch teams seemed so riffled up to win, Alfred would watch the Gryffindor team practice with Ron and Hermione. Alfred had to say he was impressed with them— they were as determined as him and baseball season (or football, basketball, and hockey season). They practiced every week for three evenings and Oliver Wood (the Keeper of the team) seemed to want nothing but the best.

Though one evening in the Gryffindor common room, Alfred was leafing through his _Black Holes and Baby Universes_* as Hermione and Ron where completing their star charts for Astronomy. Hermione was quite surprised of Alfred completing his so quickly, and more so of his chart being very accurate, but Alfred shrugged it off that he's been studying stars for as long as he could remember where the constellations were. As the wizards continued on with their homework and Alfred with his reading, the rest of their housemates seemed to have caught the jitters when Harry came back from practice, patting down his body to warm himself up.

"What's happened?" Harry asked as he walked towards the group near the fireplace.

"First Hogsmeade weekend," Ron pointed out, referring to the notice on the old shabby bulletin board. "End of October. Halloween."

"Excellent," said Fred, appearing behind Harry through the portrait hole. "I need to visit Zonko's. I'm nearly out of Stink Pellets."

Alfred blinked as set aside his books. "Hey, what is Hogsmeade? I've been meaning to ask, but never got around it."

"Hogsmeade is the only all-wizards village in Britain. Hogwarts lets us visit the village, but only third years and up, but they need a guardian's permission to go to Hogsmeade." Hermione explained.

"Guardian permission?" Alfred questioned, sending Hermione an odd look.

"Yes, last year all second years got this form to give to our parents or guardian." Hermione explain, taking out a sheet of paper and handing it to Alfred.

"Well that might explain it then," Alfred said as he looked over the permission slip. "I won't need one of these, would I?"

"Um, yes you do, otherwise Professor McGonagall won't let you go. Perhaps you should go get one now." Hermione advised, causing Alfred to groan.

"What? Ah man that's stupid! I like live on my own! I don't have any guardians, and I totally doubt my boss would sign it." Alfred huffed, burying his face into his hands.

The Golden Trio looked at each other and perked their brows.

"You don't have anyone who's able to sign this?" Ron asked. "Like a family friend or somebody." He suggested.

Alfred shrugged. "Well, my mom can't really write or anything… Maybe Arthur can sign it." Alfred said as he got up and handed Hermione back her permission slip. Stretching out his back, Alfred covered up yawned and hummed lightly to himself.

"Why would Professor Kirkland sign it?" Harry asked, wondering the same thing everyone else was.

"Ah, for a time he… used to watch me when I was younger." Alfred said, lying partly. It was true, just in a broad about way. However, saying this caused an unpleasant mix of emotions in Alfred. "Well, I'm going to get one of those slips then, see ya guys." Alfred said as he waved goodbye and left out through the portrait hole.

As soon as Alfred left, Harry slumped down into Alfred's seat as his liveliness began to fade away, and as expected, Hermione seemed to know what was bringing him down.

"Harry, I'm sure you'll be able to go next time. They're bound to catch Black soon. He's been sighted once already." Hermione said as she tried to lighten up his spirits.

"Black's not fool enough to try anything in Hogsmeade," said Ron, joining Hermione in the efforts to cheer up Harry. "Ask McGonagall if you can go this time, Harry. The next one might not be for ages —"

"_Ron!"_ Hermione chided. "Harry's supposed to stay in _school_ —"

"If Alfred can get himself to go to Hogsmeade, then why not Harry? He can't be the only third year left behind." Ron argued. He did have a point. If Alfred could ask Professor Kirkland to sign his slip signed, than why not Harry? "Ask McGonagall, go on, Harry —"

"Yeah, I think I will," said Harry, making up his mind as he got up from his seat.

Hermione opened her mouth to argue back but Crookshanks thought otherwise as he leapt onto her lap with a fairly large dead spider hanging from his mouth.

"Does he have to eat that in front of us?" said Ron, scowling…

**II**

As Alfred left to go see Arthur, turning away the thought of bothering Professor McGonagall during the late hour (he didn't want to annoy her and add another reason for McGonagall to keep a close eye on him), Alfred traveled to through halls, walkways, and stairways as he left to Arthur's room. During his journey though, Alfred sighed as he found himself deeply bothered by the ever-changing layout of Hogwarts. He knew that it was for security purposes, but he always found himself to get lost at some point until he began to see familiar settings. Just once he wished to reach his desired location on the first try and not on the second, fourth, or sixth try. Just once, but that was wishful thinking.

When Alfred finally arrived to Arthur's (he swallowed up his pride by waking up a grumpy portrait to ask for directions), Alfred knocked on Arthur's door. Resting his hands behind his back, Alfred bounced on his heels, humming softly to himself before Arthur's door finally opened. It took a while of waiting though. Perhaps about five minutes before Arthur opened up his door with a less than happy look upon his face.

"What is it Alfred? I'm trying to get ready for bed." Arthur sighed.

"What? How'd you know it was me?" Alfred asked as he bent down to pick up Excalibur when the Scottish Fold appeared before Arthur's legs.

"It's always you— you're the only person whoever dares to bother me during these late hours." Arthur said, shaking his head and he turned back towards his room, allowing Alfred to come inside.

"True," Alfred commented as he followed Arthur, stroking Excalibur's fur and absently listening to the cat's purrs. "So, can I ask you a favor?"

"I'm not letting you sleep in here." Arthur said at once, a weary tone residing in his voice as he left over to his bathroom.

"You say that, but you know I won't listen." Alfred said as he left over to Arthur's bed, kicking off his shoes as he lay down on the covers, rubbing Excalibur's belly as he waited for Arthur's reply.

"When do you ever listen to anyone but yourself?" Arthur retorted back as Alfred made himself comfortable on Arthur's bed. "Anyways, what do you want?"

"Touché," Alfred said, picking up Excalibur to play Airplane. "Ah— well I need you to sign a permission slip."

Arthur stuck his head out from his bathroom, a foamy tooth in hand. "Permission slip?" He asked before disappearing back in the bathroom and a moment later Alfred heard the facet run.

When Arthur came out the bathroom, whipping his mouth with a small hand towel, he tossed the towel on of his wardrobe. "Why do you need me to sign a permission slip? Much less _why_ do _you_ need one and for what?" Arthur asked, feeling confused by what Alfred was asking from him.

"Ah well it turns out all third years need a permission slip to go to Hogsmeade— you know that wizard city at your place." Alfred said, choosing to continue playing with Excalibur than to look at Arthur. "And it has to be signed by a parent or guardian…" He added awkwardly, idly tossing Excalibur in the air.

"I know what and where Hogmeade is!" Arthur snapped before calming down, shifting on his feet as an awkward silence hung between him and Alfred. "So… Where is this slip?"

"I don't have it yet."

"Then why bother coming to here to ask me to sign it if you don't even have it?" Arthur asked, a slight annoyed tone rising in his voice.

"Well I just sort of found out today and I was— am going ask Professor McGonagall to get a slip, and then have you sign it." Alfred said, pouting as Excalibur leapt out of his hold and quickly made the under of Arthur's bed a safe haven. "I just wanted to make sure you, you know, were going to sign it."

Arthur snorted in annoyance. "And what makes you think I'll sign it?"

At that, Alfred shot up and looked at Arthur with an irritated face. "What? You just said you'd sign it!" Alfred accused.

"I never agreed. I simply asked where the slip was. Don't assume that I was going to sign it just because I asked to see the slip." Arthur said, crossing his arms. "So why should I sign it? I'm not your parent or your guardian."

"Well I'm like in your country, province, kingdom, whatever it is, so doesn't that sort of… make you responsible for my wellbeing?" Alfred tried, his eyes trailing after Arthur as the Englishman walked over to his bed.

Taking a seat on his bed, Arthur scoffed and smiled lightly as Excalibur came out of his hiding spot and pounced onto his lap. "Sure, I'll sign it." He said before looking at Alfred.

Alfred's eyes lit up. "What? Really? You're going to sign the slip?" He asked, before making a confused face. "Then what was up with the 'I'm not going to sign it' attitude?"

"Oh I just wanted to hear you say that I was responsible for you." Arthur chuckled, feeling complacent before he found himself face-planting on to the ground.

"Go to hell Arthur!" Alfred shouted from the bed, glaring down at Arthur.

Rolling over to his back, Arthur scowled as he looked up at Alfred, Excalibur residing in Alfred's lap. "What the bloody hell was that for?"

"Stop lingering on the past you old man!"

"I am not— that doesn't call for shoving me off my own bed!" Arthur hissed, getting up to his knees and glaring at Alfred when the American began to make himself comfortable in Arthur's bed. "And what do you think you're doing?" He asked as Alfred laid his head down on Arthur's pillow.

"Going to bed."

"Not in my room, you have your own in the Gryffindor tower. Why don't you go back in your own dorm?" Arthur asked, climbing back onto his bed.

"Don't wanna." Alfred said stubbornly, tightening the duvet around him.

"It's 'want to', not 'wanna'." Arthur scowled before realizing something. "Where's Excalibur?" He asked. Wasn't the cat just in Alfred's lap a moment ago? And then the thought hit him. "Alfred you let go of Excalibur this minute!" Arthur demanded, slapping Alfred by the shoulder.

"No! He's too cute!" Alfred whined, holding the cat tightly to his chest under the covers.

"Idiot! Stop holding him hostage!" Arthur said, trying to pull the covers off of Alfred, in which Alfred only continued to resist Arthur.

As the two wrestled on the bed, Arthur trying to pry Excalibur from Alfred's arms and Alfred trying to keep Excalibur to himself, Arthur quickly gave up the fight because trying to forcibly take something from Alfred's hands was a nearly impossible feat.

Arthur frowned. "Alfred, let go of him, I'm afraid you'll smother him to death with all that fat of yours." Arthur said flatly, silently counting in his head. _'1…2…3…'_

"Fat!? I'm not fat!" Alfred said heatedly as he threw the covers off him to glare at Arthur, puffing out his reddened cheeks as he sulked. Though when he sat up, Excalibur wiggled out from Alfred's loosened grip, causing Alfred to whine.

"Oh shut it you big lug, I can't have you smothering Excal like that, he doesn't like that." Arthur said, watching Excalibur hiss at Alfred every time he reached out to the poor Scottish Fold. "See? You made him angry."

At that, Alfred gave up trying to pet Excalibur and crossed his arms. "Didn't want him anyways," he stubbornly sulked.

Arthur sighed, rolling his eyes. "Alfred, do you want a cat?"

"No."

"Alfred."

"…Maybe just a little bit."

"Yes or no."

"Yes."

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

Alfred gave Arthur a puzzled look. "Uh, what? Yes? I said that clearly, so why? What? You want me to say please with a cherry on top?"

"That would be nice." Arthur said, feeling smug at his efforts of annoying Alfred. It was fun to toy with him, not that he would ever admit it.

"Dude! Quit being an asswad! I don't even know what I'm asking for anymore!" Alfred said, running his hands through his hair.

"What I'm saying is I'll get you one. I'll come with to Hogsmeade with you; I don't believe you have any wizard currency, do you?" Arthur asked, looking at Alfred knowingly.

"Uh, no. I don't have any of the pirate money you wizards use."

"_Wizard_ currency." Arthur corrected, furrowing his brows at Alfred.

Alfred shook his head, tsking at Arthur as he wiggled his finger in a tick-tock motion. "You guys use galleons. Pirate money."

"No, that's just—" Sighing, Arthur rolled his eyes. "Yes, sure. Wizards use pirate money…"

"So you're going to buy me a pet?" Alfred asked, making sure what he thought Arthur was saying was in fact true.

"Yes so that you won't torment mine anymore." Arthur said, lightly scratching behind Excalibur's ear.

Alfred grinned, flashing his pearly whites at Arthur. "Sweet!" Alfred exclaimed before registering what Arthur had just said, "Hey I don't—"

"Yes, yes. Whatever you say, now go away. I want to sleep peaceful tonight." Arthur said, pointing at his door.

Frowning, Alfred rolled his eyes. "Fine." He said, sounding exasperated as he climbed off the bed. Strolling off to the door, Alfred twisted the doorknob to leave, but just as he did so, he let out an ear-curdling shriek.

Jumping from his bed, Arthur turned to yell at Alfred for his abrupt yelling, when he was suddenly tackled to the floor.

"Alfred! Get off me!" Arthur yelled, trying to shove Alfred off him. "What the hell is wrong with you? You're acting as if you just saw a gho— oh for the love of God." Arthur groaned, thumping his head against the floor.

Laughing, Peeves skidded through the air, hovering over the two fallen men. "Oh ho ho, Alfie doesn't like me! But why, all I want to do is play, remember? Alfie, let's play!" Peeves purred, snickering as he watched Alfred tremble in fear.

"Oh drop it Peeves, you know very well that he doesn't like you. Now bugger off, I've got to deal with this now." Arthur hissed, trying to push Alfred away.

Giggling, Peeves stuck out his tongue, floating on his back as he swam backstrokes in the air. "One day Alfred, one day you'll play with me." Peeves giggled, somersaulting in the air before diving into the floorboard and disappearing from sight.

As soon as Peeves disappeared, there was a moment of silence as Alfred and Arthur lay on the floor. Alfred was still clinging to Arthur and Arthur was staring hard at the ceiling in irritation. Arthur silently wondered when Alfred was going to stop this silly fear of his. Honestly, Alfred was a nation and a superpower for God's sake and he was scared of ghosts and a poltergeist?

"H-Hey, Arthur, is… Is it oka—"

"Yes, Alfred. You can stay here for the night."

"Thank you."

"Can I go back in my bed now?" Arthur asked, narrowing his eyes at Alfred as show of his patience for Alfred was wearing down.

"Er, yeah…" Alfred said, releasing Arthur from his hold and getting back to his feet.

"Thanks," Arthur said, patting down his night gown as he left back to bed, Alfred following suit and getting under the covers.

After everything seemed to have calmed down, Arthur blew out the lights in his room and Excalibur tucked himself between his master and Alfred, whom Arthur didn't mind because Excalibur became the sort of barrier separating him and Alfred. This wasn't the first time they've shared a bed before, whenever Alfred read a scary book or was told a spooky story, Alfred would be up in Arthur's room in no time, which became bothersome as no one else knew where Alfred went when he disappeared in the night…

**III**

When morning came, Alfred had woken up from the mewing of Excalibur. Petting and playing with the cat and simply staying in bed, Alfred giggled as Excalibur nipped at his fingers, but did his best to not wake Arthur. It wasn't until a while after Alfred registered that it was morning and that he had to get ready for class. Having spent the night in Arthur's room, Alfred had to quickly leave over to the Gryffindor portrait hole and leave up the stairs and into the boy's dormitories, to his dorm to change and whatnot. His roommates had asked where he had disappeared off to, which was a given as he did leave and never came back that night, but he simply shrugged as he left to shower.

But in his time in the common room, Alfred noticed that Ron wasn't in the room and the Hermione and Harry were quiet. There seemed to be a stale air between the third years. _'Strange, I wonder if something happened while I was gone…'_ Alfred had thought during his time in Herbology as Ron seemed to refuse to cooperate or talk to Hermione— which may not have been very smart as he, Harry, and Hermione were in charge of the same Puffapod.

"Hey, is Ron alright?" Alfred whispered to Hermione when Ron hissed at her for asking something about Scabbers and spilling beans all over the floor. "Did something happen to his mouse?"

Hermione shook her head, looking a bit shameful and regretful. "Rat. Scabbers is a rat, not a mouse." She corrected as she and the rest of the class continued peeling apart fat pink pods for brilliant shimmering beans. Alfred was surprised of the tired tone she took with him. "But yes, Crookshanks chased Scabbers around the common room— but it was nothing I could control! Crookshanks was acting out of instinct!" Hermione huffed, popping open a pod and a few beans spilling from it.

Alfred winced. "Oh, well I hope things get sorted out between you two."

"Oh he's just being stubborn is all." Hermione retorted before frowning.

"Alright…" Alfred said, not completely satisfied with the answer, but these were kids, so mundane fights like these would end soon enough. But Ron seemed to hold grudges tightly as he was still in a sour mood with Hermione throughout the class. "Maybe just give him a little air…" He suggested at Ron began to ignore Hermione.

Herbology ended and they had Transfigurations next, which was good for Alfred because he could ask McGonagall for the pink slips everyone seemed to have— except for Neville of course. The lesson went on as usual and Ron continued to hold a cold shoulder over Hermione though out and the end of the class. Professor McGonagall had rounded up everyone in a single line to collect their permission slips, Alfred was just behind Harry.

As he and the trio moved up the line, Harry was asking McGonagall if she could sign his slip, as his "muggle" guardians did not sign it. As Alfred watched Harry trying to convince McGonagall to sign his slip, Alfred felt bad that in the end, Harry could not go to Hogsmeade. Well, all for the best because of that Sirius Black guy lurking around Britain (Alfred was clued in about the man from Arthur, and then Hermione explained that Black was after Harry).

When Alfred stepped up to McGonagall, he was about to speak up had it not been if McGonagall spoken first when she noticed Alfred not handing in a slip right away.

"Your slip Jones?"

"Uh, yeah. About that. I don't have one since I didn't attend Hogwarts last year… and didn't get one." Alfred explained. "So I thought I could get a slip today and have Arth— Professor Kirkland sign it and then hand it to you when I can."

"Why would Professor Kirkland sign it?" McGonagall asked, cocking her head in a warily.

"Well, as you know, I'm not from the UK and whenever I am visiting, Arthur's usually the guy in charge of my wellbeing, so technically his sort of like my guardian while I'm here."

Listening to what Alfred had said, McGonagall thought for a moment. "Well, I suppose that's alright." Professor McGonagall had said, opening a drawer in her desk and pulling out a slip for Alfred. "Return this with Professor Kirkland's signature. Now, go to your next lesson, you don't want to run late." McGonagall advised as she handed Alfred the slip.

Taking the piece of paper, Alfred grinned. "Thanks! — And I sure will! Bye!" He said as he followed the Golden Trio out the door.

Ron and Hermione were doing there awful best to cheer up Harry, Ron calling McGonagall many names the Hermione would not even dare to repeat, but she would insist that it was for the better of Harry's wellbeing given his situation with Black. Even Alfred felt sad for the Gryffindor, but what could he do to help? It not like he or Arthur could sign the slip, or convince someone to. And their efforts of cheering up Harry didn't help either.

"There's always the feast— you know, the Halloween feast, in the evening." Ron tried, hoping the mention of the feast would bright up Harry's spirits. Although there was nothing wrong during their meal times, the food served during the Halloween feast was filling and wonderful with a wide variety of foods to eat— especially the desserts.

"Yeah," said Harry gloomily, "great…"

**IV**

Later that day, Arthur had signed Alfred's permission slip to Hogsmeade as promised. Alfred was glad and now he couldn't anticipate for the Hogmeade weekend to come. This would an all new experience for him and he was excited. He would be getting a pet! He wondered if he should stick with a cat though. Maybe he should get an owl, or maybe a toad. Toads were cool. This wouldn't be his first met though. He had Whaley, but Whaley wasn't travel sized… And he couldn't bring Tonny anywhere. Oh, maybe when he mastered transfigurations, he could transfigure him to look human! Nonetheless, as Alfred thought and left to go back to McGonagall's, Arthur had stopped and asked Alfred to deliver a message that he and a few others were planning on going to the pub and wanted to know if McGonagall would like to join in— she agreed to come.

So as Arthur, Lupin, McGonagall, Trelawney, Snape, and even Dumbledore sat at the counter of the Three Broomsticks, all were drinking to their delight as well socializing. It was a pleasant evening, there were a few other customers, but the Hogwarts staff paid little attention to them. Instead they had their share of fun and laughed, Snape possibly having cracked a smile at one point. But as they talked, Lupin was poked fun at Arthur being a light weight, enticing laughs from Dumbledore and Trelawney, and muffled chuckles from McGonagall.

"Mm, maybe you should lighten up on the tonic, Arthur, you look as if you're about to tip over." Remus chuckled, grinning at Arthur, who had been ranting about Alfred.

Arthur shook his head. "No, no. I know me limit an' I've yet to… to re'ch it." He hiccupped, waving his finger at Remus. However when he heard chuckles escaping Sybill, he leered at the forecaster. "And wha' d'you think's so funny? Di'I give ye the permission ter laugh?"

Sybill siled and patted Arthur's back. "Oh, you're a funny man Arthur." However with her pats and Arthur's disoriented state, the pissed man suddenly fell from his seat, banging up his back and entangling his legs on the stool he sat upon. At this, McGonagall sat up in her seat.

"Professor Kirkland?" She asked, looking down at Arthur.

"Ca' me A'sur, Minerva." Arthur slurred from the floor. "Hol'on a moment, I can't… I can't feel my legs." Arthur said truthfully. The fall actually causes him to momentarily dislocate his lower back, but they didn't need to know that. However is did sober him up a bit. "Don't mind me—jus' han' me another tonic." It slightly sobered him up.

"Are you sure? You seem sort of..." Minerva trailed off as she looked at Arthur, who was in fact trying to realign his back as he squirmed on the floor.

"Well, you seem quite disoriented, Arthur." Sybill finished as Arthur struggled to get back on his feet much less correct the fallen stool.

"Perhaps you should go home. I think you've had enough." Minerva suggested, looking at Arthur with slight worry.

"Oh I'm sure the man is alright, Remus, I'm sure you've had drinks with Kirkland many times before? He's always like this, isn't he?" Dumbledore said with a smile.

Remus grinned. "That he is. He'll be fine in good time." And with that Arthur sighed as he felt a pop in his lower back and the feeling returned to his legs. "He just knows how to have a good time is all."

Getting up, Arthur staggered a bit before propping the chair back in it's spot and climbing back into it. Normally he tried to be gentlemanly before a lady, but hell after the umpteenth tonic he forgot all about that and grabbed the tonic before him. "As I was saying, befo'e I was _rudely_ interrupted," Arthur started, glaring at Remus. "I need to go ter Hogsheade—meade. 'Ve gotta buy the git a dog er— cat." Arthur said as he licked his lips.

"Who?" Minerva asked, cocking her head.

"I believe he means Alfred." Dumbledore said, smiling as he drank his butterbeer. No alcohol for him tonight.

"Yeah, the prat wants a pet, but the pillock isn't that familiar with the currency wizards use..." Arthur said, scratching the back of his neck with an annoyed look on his face. "Which'll be a good thing, won't bully my Excal anymo'e."

Minerva thought for a moment. "Well, I don't see the harm… Alright, I'll tell the students that you'll be there as well… But do behave appropriately around the children."

"Need not be afraid, I will just fine around the little buggers— I won't be drunk by then." Arthur said lamely as raised his empty glass. "Oh! And what of the… Halloween feast? Jus' a regular feast?"

Dumbledore nodded. "Just a magnificent feast like none other," Dumbledore said. Arthur frowned.

"That's boring, why not a party of sorts? A Halloween party to go along with the feast," Arthur said, crossing his arms. "The kids'll love it; music, dressing up, playing games, sugary sweets to rot their teeth with. A contest too— best dressed and what not. Teachers can participate as well."

At this, Snape furrowed his brows. "Absolutely not. Not only is that not appropriate and ridiculous, the children will become unruly in such a thing, and we'll have no time for that. Having the feast as it is is just fine."

"Says you Snake— Snape. Just because you may not like it, doesn't mean no one else will." Arthur said, scowling at Snape. "A simple feast to celebrate Halloween is just utter bull crap. Normally I attend or host Halloween parties, and _I_ for one know it will not take long to set one up— _especially_ with magic." Arthur sneered.

"Well _you_ may participate in that offensive stereotypic activity on Halloween, but I will not have the students take part in it." Snape retorted back, bumping heads with Arthur.

"Offensive!?" Arthur cried out, climbing out of his seat to face Snape. "It's not offensive! It's all in fun and games!" Arthur shouted, growing irritated at Snape. "It's music, dances, and games! Halloween is a festivity! Not a damn formality!"

But just before anything could happen, both men were interrupted by Dumbledore. "Now gentlemen, calm down. Now Professor Kirkland, I'm sure Snape didn't mean to tread on your own traditions. It's a difference in cultures and many of us are unfamiliar with muggle traditions. And Snape, I'm sure Kirkland does not mean to cause a disturbance in how the feast is normally prepared."

Both the mentioned men stared each other with unamused looks.

"Now Professor Kirkland, how is Halloween normally done in the Muggle world?" Dumbledore asked, a thin smile on his lips.

Arthur rolled his eyes but sighed. "Well, as I said, the children dress up as either magical creatures, but lately also as animals and whatever they can think of. Adults may dress up too, but they tend to just give out sweets.

In the olden times, the reason the children dressed up on Halloween was to scare away bad omens and spirits by dressing up as witches, ghouls, and monsters, but that tradition had morphed over time. Halloween is not meant to offend anyone in the wizard world."

Dumbledore smiled and looked at Snape. "See? There is nothing wrong with Kirkland's idea. Actually, I think it'll be nice. The children will enjoy doing this, I'm sure."

Arthur smirked and felt that he deserved another tonic, or gin, or both. "Ha, that's what I'm talking about."

"Er, Arthur, do you think you're going to be alright? You've already consumed enough alcohol to fill up a liter or two." Minerva asked, looking at the empty cups before Arthur.

Arthur shook his head. "Not at all, I know when I've consumed enouve." Arthur said, ignoring the heated glares he could sense from Snape. Despite that, Arthur busied himself with more drinks and he was lost in the light conversation the Hogwarts staff was having.

Growing bored, Arthur's eyes began to wonder around the room and his eyes settled down on a pair of women. Smiling, Arthur finished his drink and tossed the barista his fair and jumped from his seat, making his way towards the woman.

"Oi, Arthur, what are you doing?" Remus asked, leaning back in his seat and looking at the History of Magics teacher.

Arthur turned back to Remus to smile. "My mood's a little sour, so I'm going to sweeten it up a bit." Arthur said, looking back at the two women. At this, Remus laughed.

"Ah, d'you think that's a good idea?"

"It's prolleh not, but to hell with that m'boy."

"You're rather under the influence— do you even think you have a shot at either of those women?" Remus asked, looking at the mentioned woman.

"It's the weekend and I may be pissed drunk of my ass, but I think I deserve a little fun." Arthur huffed before heading towards the woman.

Watching the Englishman sit at the women's table, the Hogwarts group watched curiously, although Snape watched out of spite to see the drunken man get rejected by the women.

"So who wants to make a bet?" Remus asked, taking a sip of his drink as he watched Arthur talk with the women. For a drunken man, Arthur was very sure of himself. "10 galleons that he gets the brunette woman."

The brunette woman had short curly hair and tanned skin and had curvy body. She was filled out, but she was very pretty… and she also looked annoyed at Arthur. Her arms were crossed and she was leaning against her chair with a scowl upon her face.

"What?" Sybill asked, looking over at Remus. "Absolutely not," she said in disagreement. "10 for the blonde, she doesn't look as annoyed with Arthur."

Said blonde haired woman was actually a strawberry blonde haired woman with long locks of hair and fair skin and a considerably modest yet appealing body figure; she was smiling and leaning over the table with her head in her hands, smiling as she talked with Arthur. She seemed more pleased with Arthur's presence than the other woman was.

At this, Minerva scoffed. "Hardly; five that he gets neither." She huffed, crossing her arms. _'As if,'_ She thought. _'It's hardly attractive to flirt while obviously drunk.'_

"Only five? Come on Minerva, what are you afraid off?" Remus laughed. "Come on, me and Sybill are betting 10. What about you Dumbledore? Snape?"

"I'm only betting five because I'm not losing 10 galleons over a silly bet like this."

"I have no intentions of playing this little game of yours." Snape deadpanned.

"Ah, you're no fun you spoil sport!" Remus laughed, ignoring the fierce look Snape sent him.

"20 galleons that he gets both the aforementioned women," Dumbledore suddenly said, not saying anything more as he took a drink of his butterbeer. At this, Minerva choked on her drink and looked at Dumbledore with surprise, as did Remus and Sybill and surprisingly Snape.

"What? Bollocks! You can't possibly think he'll get both!" Remus said, looking back at Arthur.

Dumbledore simply smiled and Remus, Sybill, and Minerva simply exchanged looks. Snape was unsure of what to think, and thus he said nothing when Arthur and to two ladies sat up from their sat and began making their way out from the pub. At this, Remus began to laugh along with Sybill.

"Well I'll be! That lucky tramp!" He laughed, shaking his head as Arthur left holding the woman closer by their hips.

"Lucky?" Minerva questioned, looking at Remus skeptically.

"What? It's every man's dream. I sure do miss my twenties though," Remus laughed, looking at Dumbledore. "Say Dumbledore, how'd you know he'd get them?"

"This isn't nearly the first time I've drank with him. After a while into his drinks, he becomes… I guess you could say 'scandalous'." Dumbledore informed, chuckling softly to himself.

"Well, if the saying that alcohol makes one acts upon their inner desires, I don't want this man anywhere near the children." Snape scowled as he crossed his arm, his distrust for the History of Magic teacher growing stronger.

"Now, now, Kirkland is a man who does hold high standards for himself. He wouldn't act like this in a rational state of mind." Dumbledore defended, although understanding what Snape was concerned about.

"Trelawney, if you're a 'seer', why did you lose the bet?" Minerva asked, her skepticism of Sybill's "soothsaying" abilities beginning to appear.

Sybill flushed and coughed into her fist. "Ah, well, I wasn't making a prediction, just a mere... guess is all. I wouldn't make a prediction on something so... habitual." Sybil finished as she squirmed around her seat on reflection of her discomfort with the question.

Minerva crossed her arms and perked her lips in the slightest way. "Hmm," she hummed, as if to say "If you say so" in a skeptic manner.

Dumbledore cleared his throat to gain everyone's attention. "Now, I believe you own me some galleons."

"You're a cheat, you know that Dumbledore?" Remus joked, handing Dumbledore his galleons. "But you did earn it fair and square."

Dumbledore smiled. "If you say so, but how about we finish up our drinks for the night? I'm sure Professor Kirkland will be meeting us back at Hogwarts in the morning."

At this, the group nodded or gave some sort of acknowledgment of what Dumbledore had said and continued to finish up their drinks, entertaining each other with small talk. But even then, all were still wondering about Arthur, and Snape for one could not help himself but not trust the man. Arthur was too suspicious and Snape wasn't fond of the idea of Arthur teaching the students of Hogwarts.

Arthur was just odd and his behavior irked him. Arthur Kirkland was a shady man, and therefore he couldn't be trusted. He couldn't understand how many of the student's liked him, even despite his odd behavior.

Arthur meanwhile was heading over to the Ashton's, the blonde haired woman's, home. He was sure he was going to have the most wonderful night out of all the other teachers and he was going to enjoy it with Ashton and Alina.

**i**

**Tonny* — Mr. Tonny, aka Alfred's alien friend.**

_**Black Holes and Baby Universes* **_**— an astronomy book by Stephan Hawking published in 1993.**

**ii**

**There are a few things I'd like to say. One is that I'm very, very, **_**very**_** sorry for such a late update; another is that I'm also very sorry if any of the characters are OOC. OTL I feel like this chapter sucks. ;n;**

**Lastly, for the next chapter, do you my readers want to see the fic start off with a lemon/smut (meaning you will be reading about Arthur's threesome with two lovely ladies, aka hetero and yuri smut), or post sex and Arthur waking up with a hangover? So leave a comment of yay or nay about Arthur's sex life, aka do you want to read hetero + yuri smut?**

**I don't have much to say about this chapter. I mean, it's not all that interesting and I felt that it was rather short and boring and blah… Hopefully the next chapter will be better and I'm sorry for any typos or grammatical errors you may find in this chapter.**

**EDIT 6/20/13: I realized that Hagrid prolly wouldn't join Arthur and Remus and the rest to a round of drinks because he's like depressed and shutting himself in his hut, so I did some edits and now you got your favorite soothsayer Sybill Trelawney joining Arthur at the pub! :D**

**DeiDeiArtistic**


	10. Respectful and Suspicious Part 2

**Harry Potter and the Man of Britannia**

**Chapter 6**

**Respectful and Suspicious**

**Part 2**

**DeiDeiArtistic: Okay, wow. I suck. I really, really suck. Damn. Any who, no threesomes to start off this chapter since there were a lot of nays and when I **_**did**_** (oh yeah I was going to do it) try to write it, I kept laughing so hard I couldn't even concentrate to write the damned thing. Maybe someday I'll go back and edit this. IDK. So enjoy this comedic starter of a chapter! :D However, I do have some intentions of starting a spin-off of Arthur's (and perhaps other Hetalian's) escapades with women and or men alike… Maybe though.**

**Chapter Dedication: To everyone who thought I went on hiatus for not updating in like a year! (I'm legal now. I can finally fulfill my lifelong dream of voting!)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or Harry Potter, likewise any of the preexisting characters or places.**  
><strong>Claimer: I own the plot of this story and any fictional character or idea that is not mentioned in either Hetalia or Harry Potter.<strong>

***** **  
><strong>WARNING: Use of personal headcanons; <strong>  
><strong>Possible OOC characters; mentions of OCs; <strong>  
><strong>Unbeta'd. <strong>  
><strong>*** <strong>

**I**

**A**s the rays of the sun peered through the curtains, Arthur grimaced as the light hit his face. Groaning, Arthur opened his eyes but squeezed them shut as he thought the sun was just too bright that day. Bringing a hand over his face, Arthur grumbled to himself as he rubbed his eyes, trying to will away the headache and the tiredness away.

Unfortunately for him, his wake-up-call was the sudden violent contract and bind in his stomach and he sprawled up to his feet (roughly pushing aside the women who used his arms as pillows) and ran to the bathroom. To say that type of morning wasn't uncommon for the hung-over Brit and to say that it was the worse would have been an understatement. So no, this morning just sucked.

Arthur was inside the bathroom, forced to obey his knotting stomach's violent heaves and jabs and he could only hope to reconcile with his stomach through water and marshmallows* as he emptied what little contents were inside his stomach. Not only did he feel foul, he felt like crap and horribly unattractive at the moment. This was not a great image for Arthur Kirkland, and he was so happy there were no classes for the day. And then that was when Arthur seemed to lose all the air in his lungs as well.

"Fuck!" Arthur cursed as he flushed the toilet and began to wash himself up as best as he could.

Splashing his face with water, Arthur turned his head and inspected the damaged and grimaced. Goddamn, there were bite marks and scratches on his neck. Did he even have make up to cover these marks? Or a turtleneck? That would be too suspicious though… He could just mask it with magic. Arthur sighed and rinsed out his mouth and grimaced. His mouth tasted like tonic, gin, and something else he didn't want to think about.

Massaging his temples, Arthur groaned and headed back into the room he was in before and glanced at the sleeping women still atop of the bed. Walking towards them, Arthur leaned down to pick up his clothes from the floor with a sigh.

"Ladies, not to be so blunt, but thank you for the shag and I say this because I'm quite certain neither of you can hear me right now." Arthur said as he picked up his slacks— and taking a pair of panties out of the pocket.

"Ashton. Alina. I do not mean to come off as rude, but I hope that we do not cross paths in the near future, merely to avoid any sort of air of awkwardness. I hope you two do understand where I'm coming from. Last night was a drunken affair, and will remain as such to just better be off forgotten.

"That said, I apologise for having to leave so soon, but I assure you are very lovely ladies." Arthur thought aloud as he shrugged his shoulders with all his clothes in hand.

When Arthur was given no sort of response from neither woman, which was a given, Arthur summoned up portal and waved a goodbye to the sleeping women. "Goodbye ladies," Arthur said as he stepped into the portal and disappearing from sight.

"Dickhead."

"Just go back to sleep lovely… He was a good shag."

**II**

Once Arthur had jumped* back into his room (his actual room) he'd dumpt his clothes into the wash and left towards his bathroom to freshen up. The hot water of his shower was refreshing and the silence of his house was a blessing for his migraine. But even then, from the lack of food, having just striped and jumped into the shower, Arthur was light headed and needed to rest and lean against the cool walls.

Sighing, Arthur simply closed his eyes and enjoyed the _PITTER PATTER_ of the water that fell. It was soothing to listen to the soft tones of the mock-rain and how gentle the water was on his skin. He felt refreshed despite the earlier nastiness, and due to his faint feeling, Arthur took time in his shower as he tried to recollect his memories of the night before.

Said memories came back in bits and pieces, the voices of others echoing in his mind, but none of the conversations made any since, seeing that they were all out of context. He remembered talking to Remus and Minerva, a bit to Sybill, and then getting into a heated debate with Snape. Arthur scowled; he remembered the feeling of wanting to punch the Slytherin headmaster.

There was also something about Halloween. Had he told them that he wanted to go to the Hogsmeade weekend with the third years? He must have, but he couldn't remember if Minerva had said yes to that request of his. He'd have to ask when he saw her again, although discreetly because he didn't want anyone overhearing that he was pissed last night. He didn't need anyone else doubting his credibility as a teacher.

Once he was done with his wash, Arthur dried himself up and dressed into a black dress shirt and cadet blue trousers. However, upon looking at himself in his mirror, Arthur wondered if he should put on his wizard's cloak before a wave of self-consciousness passed through him.

If he was to wear his cloak, would Alfred take him seriously? Or laugh. Arthur bit his lip in thought. If he wore his cloak, he'd fit more among the students and staff of Hogwarts, but then there were the chances of Alfred laughing at him and everyone else thinking that he was just an odd Muggle trying to fit in a world of Magics.

However, if he didn't wear his cloak, he'd stick out like a sore thumb and everyone else would think that he was just an odd Muggle trying to fit in a world of Magics…

Arthur sighed and left to his closet to grab his cloak. It might be useful for him later on, but any thought after that dispersed when Arthur stumbled when his vision blanked and he winced in pain from the sudden surge of pain pulsing through his head and the sudden weakness in his limbs. Groaning, Arthur remembered about the migraine medication in his medicine cabinet.

Heading back into his bathroom, Arthur stumbled and clung to a wall when a less-than-pleasant knot pulsed at his temples and he fumbled to grab the pills inside his medicine cabinet. With the battle of pills in his hand, he opened it up and dry swallowed about four pills before pocketing the medication. No doubt was he going to leave the house without it.

Sighing, Arthur left to the kitchen to grab himself some bottles of water from the fridge and a packet of marshmallows from the pantry before heading back to Hogwarts. Arthur grimaced. He knew he had to go back, but in all honesty, he wanted no one to remember much less mention this night. At all. How could he return to Hogwarts when everybody, at least those who went to the pub with him, knew what he did? Hopefully they would just let sleeping dogs lie and not bring anything up. Was it an option to erase their minds? Probably not although very tempting. What he did was rather unprofessional; he was under the influence of alcohol after all, but again he didn't want anybody to doubt his character.

Bias or not, he considered himself to be a good if not great teacher, and he didn't want this setback of sorts to cause everyone to be wary of his actions. So as long as there was no alcohol in his system, Arthur had a sturdy head on his shoulders. If he consumed alcohol at the same rate Alfred ate hamburgers, his drunken mannerisms were unpredictable and mostly he was a walking, foul-mouthed hazard.

But he couldn't _not_ go to Hogwarts, he would just simply ignore everything pertaining to his last night's rendezvous. He would just forget about it and move on with his life. He was a gentleman after all; he had to be composed about this.

"Just keep a stiff upper lip ol' boy, you can do this. It's not the first time you've gotten yourself in a hazardous situation. This isn't your first one-night stand or hangover and God knows it's not the last." Arthur said as he steeled himself just before he jumped to his room at Hogwarts. It was nearly afternoon, so Arthur knew there would be suspicions from the other teachers as well as the possibility of the students for him to now show up, after all, he did miss breakfast. He could pretend that the night never happened, but he couldn't change the fact that the night did happen.

**III**

Hermione and Alfred were inside the library, Alfred happily aiding Hermione with her search for books as Harry and Ron were busy entertaining themselves with Alfred's comic books back in the common room. Alfred was surprised with all the books Hermione was collecting. All of the books they'd gathered were beginning to make two foot towers of thick, musty, and tattered leather-bound book.

Picking up a brown leather book, Alfred glanced at the cover that showed moving images of a ceramic vase melting from some sort of acidic blue-ish liquid, a clear-glass bottle shattering over the floor and spilling a yellow powder, and somebody grinding up a powdery substance. Cocking his head, Alfred looked at the title of the book:_ Poisonous, Hallucinogenic, or Remedy? What You Need to Know About Powders, Liquids, and Strange Substances._

Alfred quirked a brow and picked up another book, but the book was plain and lacking any sort of design. _The Magical Properties of Plant-based Powders_. Curious, Alfred flipped a few yellow, brown-rotting pages and read the sepia-coloured ink and saw that it was an old scientific-based journal of a wizard analyzing the different properties of familiar and odd plants when making potions.

Picking up another book, Alfred saw that one book after the other dealt with powders, potions, or potions making. Was Hermione trying to do some extra credit for Snape's class? Alfred as he lazing thumbed through the book and watching the diagrams move. He wondered if there was a magical copy of Di Vinci's journal because he would just love to see _those_ diagrams and hypotheses move.

"Hey, Hermione, what's with all the books?" Alfred asked as he put down a book. All the books he and Hermione collected covered nearly the entire table they were using. "If you trying to learn about more potions, you don't need to 'cause you're already the smartest in the class. Plus Snape's a jerk, so don't bother trying to impress him with your smarts."

Hermione turned her attention away from the book she held and her cheeks flushed from Alfred's compliment. "Ah, oh, thank you Alfred, but no. I'm not trying to learn about more potions, I'm actually doing research." Hermione answered as she put down the book in her hands in favour of another.

Alfred furrowed his brows and wrinkled his nose in confusion. "What's the difference?" He asked.

"Well, the research I'm conducting has nothing to do with extracurricular activities; this research is simply to put my mind at rest with a troubling question." Hermione explained as she skimmed through her book.

Alfred nodded in complete understanding. "Oh, I know what you mean. I'm like on the same boat. When I was conducting my research on the cosmos, Arthur thought I was a nut, but I totally wanted to see space hands on. So my best brosky Tony like totally helped me build my own rocket ship and going to outer space is amazing!" Alfred exclaimed, flushing when the librarian harshly shushed him. Hermione cocked her head.

"What do you mean 'going to outer space'? You've been up in space? You were an astronaut? But you're only 19! — and who's Tony?"

Alfred winced. Oops. "Um, no. I'm not an astronaut—"

"Then how'd did you go into space, much less build your own rocket ship? Or afford to build one?"

"Hey, you didn't let me finish. I'm not an astronaut, but I was able to go into space with a few other astronauts because I was friends with Gene* and he totally let me get my own ship, cause like Tony convinced him too— yanno, more or less… 'Cause… Yeah! NASA built my ship 'cause Tony got them to!" Alfred said as he thought of an explanation without giving too many details. It was difficult to talk to humans if they didn't know you were a human because it was hard trying to explain a story with telling them how many years ago it took place, or how many years it took— especially when you look too young to know anything or anyone of importance.

Hermione furrowed her brows. "But who is Tony? And Gene? And would anyone go great lengths to build a friend a space ship?"

"Tony's my best bud in the whole world— no universe— and yanno, I got contacts! I can't tell ya more 'cause that's confidential information." Alfred said, pointing a finger at Hermione and winking at her with his "Hollywood" smile.

"But—"

"I'm going to check out Ron and Harry and seeing what they're doing. Bye." Alfred said, waving a goodbye to Hermione and going towards the last of the Golden Trio.

"What?" Hermione questioned as she watched Alfred's fleeing form. Sighing, Hermione shook her head and returned to her research of the mysterious yellow substance.

Reaching into her bag, she pulled out the bag of the odd powder and examined it with a keen eye. "Curiouser and curiouser…" Hermione mumbled. "I've looked through dozens of books and yet I see nothing that could possibly explain this oddity. What type of dust floats so freely to even defy and challenge the properties of gravity?"

Hermione bit her lip and pocketed the bag before pulling out her wand and waving it. "I need books containing dust, powder, magical properties of dust, and glowing [yellow] sub stances." Hermione said to herself as she waved her wand at her pile of books.

But when the books started to rearrange themselves to her preferences, Hermione began puzzled when a book from a book shelf went adrift and floated towards her. Grabbing the book, Hermione gazed over the cover and cocked her head. This… This wasn't what she asked for! She wasn't asking for a book about faeries!

Looking through the book, Hermione grew frustrated to see that it was a faerie tale nonetheless! This was useless to her! She didn't want faerie tales, she wanted actual hard evidence! Not the make-belief.

"Of all things, why would this help me? This is useless! Complete hogwash!" Hermione huffed, slamming the book on the table and slumping down in a chair in defeat. Sighing, Hermione pulled out the pouch of odd dust and stared solemnly at it. "Oh, what am I going to do with you? Your existence is driving the gears in my head to a complete stop. I just… I just want to know what you are, but you don't seem to exist in the world, don't you?" Hermione asked as she looked at the dust, which of course didn't answer back.

Opening up the pouch, Hermione opened it up and pocked the odd dust, and of course, the dust reacted by grouping up in small clumps of yellow matter and floating up towards the sky in a slow motion that seemed to be disturbed by the slightest of shallow breaths. Each blob was always an organic shape, either shaped as a small cloud of dust or little orbs spiraling, twirling, and dancing in the air. It was just so particular and yet there were no records of this?

"I just wish I knew what you were!" Hermione sighed, slamming the pouch onto the table. And just before she could realize what was happening, the golden particles began to glow like before and accumulate into a mass orb.

Hermione gazed at it in confusion as the orb began to condense and shine brightly like nothing she's ever seen. And just when it seemed to settle itself in the air, the orb shrunk two sizes smaller and the structure of it reminded Hermione of a wilting dandelion, though a dandelion with the colour of a daffodil and made entirely out of dust that glowed.

Squinting, Hermione leaned towards the small orb and watch as it spun slowly in the air in a stationary manner. And she than noticed that the orb was getting bigger— no, it wasn't getting bigger, it was getting closer! Gasping, Hermione shot back in her seat to get away from the twinkling orb, but the orb zoomed towards her and seemed to disperse into her forehead.

Gasping, Hermione's hands shot up into her hands and after a moment of staying still, Hermione finally got her answer.

"Angel Dust…" She whispered. It was Angel Dust, but what did that mean?

Hermione glanced at the pouch and nonetheless, there was still Angel Dust inside. Grabbing the pouch, Hermione placed it into her bag. She wasn't sure what to make of this answer, or how she it was the answer. But all she knew was that she felt shaken.

Looking at the faerie tale book from before, Hermione grabbed it and examined it again and saw that it wasn't a _faerie tale_ book, but a book containing _tales_ _of faeries_. "Perhaps you do have the answer, I just wasn't accepting of it. But you will help me solve the mystery of Professor Kirkland and the Angel Dust, won't you?" She asked, tracing a finger against the reddish-brown coloured leather of the hard-covered book.

**IV**

After having left Hermione at one the library, Alfred left towards the common room in the Gryffindor tower. After chatting lightly with Miss Lady (Alfred absolutely refused to call the woman "Fat Lady"), Alfred entered into the commons and saw that Harry and Ron were still entertaining them with his comics, as well as some other students. At first, Alfred was a little miffed for others handling his precious comics, but it soon died down when he saw that everyone was treating his babies like fine china.

"So, I take it that you guys like my 'Muggle' comics?" Alfred asked as he smiled at the gang.

"Yes, 've never seen anything like this," Ron murmured as he flipped through the pages of _Superman_.

"How do you take care of these? Their condition is amazing!" Harry commented as he admired the comics. He was amazed with Alfred having a full collection of the different series, but managed to keep them in precise condition. Even Dudley never managed to do that with his comics. Dudley would always promise Harry to lend him his comics, but by the time Dudley grew tired of them, they were dog-eared, torn, and dirtied with pen marks, rendering them useless as complete rubbish.

Ron on the other hand was more or less awed by the comics. They were nothing that he'd ever seen. At first, he was a bit peeved by the fact that none of the pictures moved, claiming that they would be much better had they moved, but after flipping pages through _Superman_, he found himself okay with that as he was drawn into the story.

Alfred shrugged. "They're special, so I take care of them as best as I can." Which was true, he kept them in sealed bags and or storage. The only times he ever took them out was whenever he wanted to read them or if one of his stars wanted to read them— or unless a museum wanted to put them in a gallery display.

"That's some special care," Harry noted as he leafed through the comic. "You must've had an awesome childhood with these books around."

Alfred inwardly winced and felt a sharp tug at his heart. Although he knew it was meant to be a compliment, it stung and hurt instead because his childhood wasn't anything like the rest of the human would. To everyone else, Alfred appeared like a nineteen-year old human, and thus lived like any human being— at least that of a wizard.

However, Alfred was not like any nineteen-year old human and he did not live like any human being because he was _not_ normal. He was a Nation after all. Alfred's childhood was far from being a happy one, even if he pretended it was.

…

"_Seedling, don't wander far. Strange men wander our land," Seedling recalled his mother saying in her native tongue as he hopped over the rocks and mounds of the earth as he followed his rabbit pounce around the earth in their little game of tag. He felt the grass beneath his feet was soft and moist with the morning dew and the sun peered through the evergreen leaves of the forest that swayed and danced with the wind._

_It was bright and all Seedling knew was the horizon-wide forest that surrounded him. He knew all the animals that roamed through the vast fields and forests. He knew the cold nights and the hot days, he knew nearly everything about the land_.

_He knew everything but the strange men his mother talked about._

_His people, they were kind of like him, but darker, like his mother. She had long hair that was black as ebony, it was shiny and straight, but why didn't she braid it like the other women? She said it was because she wasn't married.* Her skin was also dark and sort of red, but it was soft, warm, and comforting. Her eyes were also dark, like black pits, but he liked them nonetheless. They always showed love, knowledge, and determination, but lately they've shown something else as well._

_So he trusted his mother when she said not to wander far, to avoid the strange men, and to stay near. He was Seedling, and he would always listen to the Land. His mother's people would call her the Land and that although they shared the Land with other tribes; the Land was not for the taking, as she provided them everything to life, she created all their homes and lives._

_So as Seedling listening to the voices of Nature, he stopped when he stood on a cliff. Far away, he saw black smoke arising into the sky, but nonetheless, entirely meaningless. 'Is that from the strange men? They can create fire too?" Seedling thought. "I wonder what they look like…" Seedling thought before shrugging back the thought. No, he promised his mother he'd stay away, so he would, and with that, he continued to play._

…

_It had been a while since he's seen his mother. Around him are not his people, the animals, or the plants he's come to know. Ever since he came to were the crying man took him, his 'big brother', he saw a lot of people who looked like 'England'. There wasn't many and they were the people who destroyed his mother's forest, made her sick. He didn't know what to think of them._

_And there was also another thing; Seedling didn't go by Seedling anymore. He was "America" now, and he learned that Sapling became "Canada" by the strange people. England said he couldn't see his mother anymore either, that he would protect America from the "savages", but his mother wasn't a savage! England's people were!_

…

_England's people were now America's. America's people frightened him. They were savages. What man ate his own kin? "His" people were always hungry and he felt it. It hurt and it terrified him. He missed his mother, why couldn't he speak to her? She could teach them how to hunt, how to grow their own food, and how to survive. He told his people this, but the men of the village, those in charge said "gentlemen don't hunt". If gentlemen didn't hunt, America would rather be a savage; at least they had food to eat._

_America grimaced and clutched his stomach as a violent churn left him in pain. "England, please come back."_

_America's people were beginning to riot against each other and he hid from them inside the cabin he now called "home". They were angry, hungry, and fighting to live. America was frightened, starving, and wanting to live. With his adoption of England's people, he was hungry all the time and air was filled with hostility and despair. England rarely ever showed up and America wondered if England would ever come back._

_He wanted England to come back, he was scared. His people's savagery was creating or calling something evil. In the late nights, people disappeared and reappeared dead with their carcass ripped up. It was a gruesome sight that haunted America, because he could see shadows lurking around the settlement. And even with these deaths, his people still fought. They were tired and they felt abandoned by Great Britain. And still, they ate each other._

"_England, please come back."_

…

_America was hiding under his blankets shaking. Things were howling in the air, yet everyone didn't seem to notice. A lot of his people were dead. Months ago there were a good 30,000 people, now there were a mere handful of 56 people. It hurt a lot and America had lost a lot of weight like the rest of the colonists. They were like walking skeletons, but unlike the colonists, America didn't have the satisfaction of dropping dead. No, all he could do was drop to his knees and beg for England to return._

"_England, please… It hurts."_

…

_America rushed towards the docks the moment is was reported that ships of Great Britain were near. 'England's back!' America thought with the filling of joy filling him. He thought England abandoned him, but now he was back. Good things happen when England came back. So rushing towards the bank, America tripped as a dizzy spell washed over him._

_But before America could pick himself up, someone else did. America began to shake as his eyes swelled up with tears. "England, you're back."_

_England looked at America and studied the young colony. "America, what… How did…" England was speechless. He didn't know what to say or where to start asking. Only America knew what to say._

"_Gentlemen don't hunt." And with that, England raised a brow and looked towards the colonists. The state they were in was similar to how Alfred looked it was grotesquely morbid. And to see his America like this… It was heartbreaking. How could his colonists do this to America?_

_England swallowed nothing and nodded. "Well, how about we go home and I'll make you some beef stew. Does that sound good?" He asked and America let out the biggest smile he could._

_Nodding ecstatically, America wrapped his arms around England. "Yes! It sounds very good!" America cried at the thought of food. "I'm glad you're back." Good things happened when England came back. England always brought back food._

…

"_America? Why are you still awake? You should be asleep right now." England asked a very sleep-deprived America. America didn't like to sleep. Bad things happened in the night, and America couldn't let those bad things hurt England._

"_I can't go to sleep." America said, holding the pen-knife* tightly in his hand. England leered his eyes and walked up to America, snatching the pen knife. "Why do you have this? What are you doing America?"_

_America gasped and tried to take back the pen-knife. "No! It's to protect us! Give it back England!"_

_England snorted. "America, this will do you no good in battles with bears or savages."_

_America stopped trying for pen-knife and looked at England with teary hurt eyes. "No… You don't understand."_

"_Understand what? America stop this tomfoolery and go to bed!" England demanded as he pocketed the knife. America stomped his foot._

"_No! You don't understand! The Wendigos will get us!" America cried out desperately, beginning to sob right after. England gave him a puzzled look._

"_Windy-what?" He asked, putting aside the pen-knife aside. "What are you talking about?"_

"_Wendigos…" America hiccupped as he wiped away hot tears. "They come at night, watching us, and take some of us, and make more Wendigos."_

_England shook his head and snorted. "America that makes no sense. Stop making up ridiculous stories."_

"_No! It's true! Bad things happen when you're not here! Really bad things and it hurts England! It hurts a lot!" America screamed. "We get hungry because we run out of food and— and we attack the natives for their food and when the natives leave, the colonists… They were angry and… and… and…" America began to feel sick as he recalled the events. The horrific events that made his skin crawl that he felt just saying it would make Wendigos come by the dozens._

"_And what? What happened America?" England asked, crossing his arms in clear disbelief._

_America let out another sob. "They ate each other. They killed each other or waited for people to die, and they… I was so hungry England, but I didn't want to eat that. I…" America sniffed and roughly wiped away his tears. "The Wendigos started appearing later on… T-They'd come at night when it was cold, and they'd howl and nobody seemed to notice._

"_T-They just come and… and eat one of the villagers, and then just leave them were the villagers could see them… England, the colonists made the Wendigos comes here because they're angry and tasted their own kind. I don't want them to come back."_

_It took a while for England to respond back, but nothing America expected._

"_America, where did you hear of these so called 'Wendigos'?"_

_America looked at England with confusion as he sniffled to a stop. "F-From my moth—" America gasped and cupped his mouth. England hated it when America talked about his mom._

_England mood went sour and he glared at America. "Don't you dare talk about that savage! If anything, it is she who's attacked this colony by casting those 'Wendigos' on us! She and those savages are mediums of the devil! You will not associate yourself with them! Do you understand!" England raged, grabbing America firmly by the shoulders and shaking him with emphasis._

_America shook his head furiously and felt his eyes burn as they began to water again. "Y-Yes sir." He stammered out, rubbing his shoulders as England let go._

_Running his hand through his hair, England sighed through his nose and walked away from America, thinking to himself for a moment as he calmed down. Turning on his heel, he faced America, who trembled slightly._

"_Alfred… Go to bed. Forget all of this Wendigo nonsense, alright?"_

"_O-Okay Arthur…" Alfred muttered, hiccupping softly as he wandered off to bed._

_When Alfred slept that night, it wasn't a moment soon he heard that bone chilling howl that his bloodshot eyes shot open. England didn't know anything. Arthur knew nothing._

…

Feeling sick, Alfred grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. Sometimes Alfred wished he could forget memories like that. But as a Nation, he had to carry on the past for the sake of his people and other. It was strange how just a few words can make you relive a whole memory, and Alfred hated it. Even after so long, he still felt the guilt, but that was the way life worked for Nations. Others fall while others prospered. Two Nations could not own the same land, it was a fight for life and the way to live was to adapt and evolve.

"Mmm… I'll see you guys later, okay guys? Take care of my babies, alright?" Alfred said as he left the room in favour of somewhere else. He left so fast, he didn't give anyone a chance to ask why. He seemed fine just a moment ago.

**V**

Ron cocked his head and turned to Harry. "Well, that was odd. Don't you think so Harry?" He asked as he placed down the comic he read. Alfred had just zoned out on them while they were talking to him, and then he just left without a second thought.

"Yeah, that was rather strange of him. Was it something I said? Or was that Alfred being… Alfred?" Harry asked. Alfred seemed to go in a trance and his eyes grew dark and Alfred didn't seem to be with them anymore— and not in a physical sense.

"What's wrong with Alfred?" Another voice asked which turned out to be none other than Hermione, holding onto a sepia-coloured book.

"He just zoned out while he were talking to him and then just left." Harry explained as he placed down the comic.

Taking a seat, Hermione shook her head. "Well, enough about Alfred. He is a bit strange... Anyway, I found out something about Professor Kirkland." Hermione said primly.

Harry and Ron shared a look, but nonetheless allowed Hermione to speak her discovery.

"Remember the golden dust from the other night? The one Professor Kirkland turned into?"

Both the males before her nodded, but they couldn't help feel the rising skepticism residing in their gut. It's not like they didn't want to _not_ believe Hermione and her discoveries about the professor, it was that they _couldn't_ believe therm. They just seemed… implausible, even for a community of wizards.

"The golden dust is actually Angel Dust! I read through all sorts of books, but none of them had any useful information about Angel Dust. All but one." And with that, Hermione held up the book about faeries.

Ron and Harry gaped at Hermione before huddling next to each other and whispering to each other.

"Harry, I think she's lost it! She's talking nonsense and of all the books in the world, she thinks a pansy book about faeries is going to help us learn about Kirkland!" Ron whispered coarsely with a shocked look about his face.

"Well, maybe she's… Or… Well what if… What if—! Um..." Harry was lost for words. How could he possibly defend Hermione with everything she's said? Yes, some of the things she's said are worrisome and dubious, but so was the professor. And sure, Professor Kirkland was a tad out there, but only when it came to his past (he was not even in Muggle phonebook or wizard's directory), but the man himself was fair and nice.

Hermione crossed her arms and huffed at the twos constant whispering. "I am not a looney! The dust itself told me!"

The looks Harry and Ron gave her weren't reassuring.

"Look, when I was researching, I couldn't find anything. So, when I was about to give up of all things, I wished what the dust was, and then the strangest thing happened. The dust began to morph into a tiny ball, and disappeared inside me, and then for a reason unknown, all I knew that it was positively Angel Dust. I don't know what exactly Angel Dust is, but I know it can grant wishes, or morph into doppelgängers, but I'm sure it can do more. If you don't believe me, why don't you try it yourself?" Said Hermione as she pulled out the pouch of Angel Dust tossed it towards Harry. "I'm _not_ making this up."

Catching the pouch, Harry looked at Hermione before looking at the pouch skeptically. Turning towards Ron, he and the Weasley boy shared a look before Harry opened up the bag. They should at least give it a try. What harm could it possibly do?

With that said, Ron looked at Hermione. "Alright, we'll do as you say and 'wish' to see if anything happens, alright?"

Beaming brightly, Hermione nodded with satisfaction.

With the bag in hand, Harry reached his fingers inside and cupped some of the golden dust. Rolling the cool dust in his hand, Harry watched the dust pool and twirl at the center of his palm. Sighing, Harry closed his eyes and began to make his wish, Ron following his lead.

"I wish… That I knew what this gold dust in my palm is."

"I wish for the same thing." Ron quickly inputted.

Hermione leered at Ron. Magic was a delicate matter; you had to be precise and specific with what you said! _"Ron."_ Hermione said in a wary tone.

Ron huffed and shook his head. "I wish I knew what this gold dust in my palm is."

When the golden dust began to shimmer, Hermione jumped and clapped her hands. "Open your eyes! Open your eyes! See—! I wasn't fibbing!"

Opening their eyes, Ron and Harry's brows rose in surprise when they saw the glowing dust in their hands. They were even surprised to see it float up and morph into a bright glowing orb. However, Hermione did not expect the boys to sprint away from the glowing orb.

"What are you— Just stop! That orb is harmless! It's going to educate you!" Hermione fussed as she watched Ron and Harry evade, avoid, and sidestep the floating orbs. This was just ridiculous.

"This isn't natural! Dust doesn't do that!" Harry argued, tripping over the tea table in order to get away from the freely flowing orb of dust.

"Are you actually going to say that in a school run by magic? It's not dangerous! It is simply granting your wish!" Hermione fussed, shaking her head in disbelief. "You agreed to do this, did you not? So why are you backing out now?"

"Fine! If it makes this glowing orb stop following me!" Ron huffed, stopping in his tracks to allow his "wish" to happen. The moment he stopped, Ron expected something to happen, but nothing did. So when he turned around, he was about to speak when the orb of dust zoomed straight into his mouth.

Clamping his hands around his throat, Ron began to throw a fit before calming down he realized he wasn't choking. Did he just eat the orb? "Hermione, I think I just ate my wish." Ron said as he gave Hermione a dumbfounded look.

Seeing his friend eat the orb, Harry began to chuckle and smile at Ron's misfortune, Harry didn't see the orb floating straight towards him and he too suffered the same fate as swallowing the orb as well. Coughing, Harry wheezed until he felt nothing in his throat. Wincing, Harry looked at Hermione. "Uh… Hermione…"

Hermione blanched. Did they just eat their wish? It was a simple task and yet—! All they had to do was make a wish, wait, and then the wish would be granted and they just _ate_ it!?

"Ron! Harry! Of all the things you could have done, you did that! Are you—! I am not the looney one here! I wouldn't eat my wish and I didn't!"

"Angel Dust…" Both boys had said, causing Hermione to stop her rant.

"What?" She asked, looking at her friends with a perplexed face. Did the wish still work? Even after it was eaten?

"The dust really was Angel Dust," Harry started, feeling speechless.

"Who would have thought…" Ron murmured, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Your wishes, they were still granted?" Hermione asked, getting closer to the two boys to make sure she hadn't misheard.

"Does this make the professor an… angel?" Ron asked, scrunching his face in mere confusion. Did angels even exist anymore? Or did they ever exist in the first place?

"Well, I don't know and I don't want to conclude anything just yet. There are still things about the professor we must still find out, all we know is basic information and it isn't enough to draw a solid conclusion. We don't want to make the same mistake we did with Quirrell."

"Hold on, _now_ you're saying that Kirkland is secretly evil?" Ron said, sending Hermione a displeased look.

"No, all I am saying is that we can't just say that Professor Kirkland is an angel just because of this dust and we couldn't possibly prove that he is— and I don't have enough dust to give everyone to believe that this dust holds magical properties." Hermione said as she stared at the pouch of dust. Wait. "Give me the pouch, how much dust is left inside?"

Harry picked up the bag and peered inside, wincing. "Er, not much." Which was true, the small pouch was hardly filled with any sort of dust, which was just lightly piled at the bottom of the pouch.

Snatching the bag from Harry, Hermione peered inside and gave a dejected sigh. "Oh no…" She murmured, looking sadly at the pouch. After a moment of thought, Hermione looked at Ron and Harry with a determined look. "Alright, we cannot use the last of the dust, only if it was an emergency, understand? This is all I have to study from, alright?"

Neither of the boys objected this, Hermione was the brains of the group, so she knew what she was doing. Or so they hoped.

Tucking the pouch into her bag, Hermione grabbed the book she showed the boys earlier. "As I said earlier, when I was researching about the Angel Dust, no books had any information regarding it."

"And that faerie tale book does?" Harry asked, sending a skeptical look at the book Hermione held.

"No, not directly at least, but I do believe it may have clues about it. And it's not a faerie tale book; it's a bestiary about faeries." Hermione explained, opening the book to show the boys the detailed pages of faerie depictions and information. Ron frowned.

"Hermione, there's just one problem. All these faeries look human, and faeries don't look like that." Ron pointed out, pointing at a picture of a light-haired faerie, a female, whose hair draped over her shoulders and adorned in blue petals, although the image seemed to be faded from time, and she held a stick in her hand.

Hermione shook her head. "Yes, but the author of the book had stated the _'Magics did not have Complete Sight, and thus could not see faeries for what they truly are'_." Hermione explained, turning to the page to show Ron what she had just cited.

"And who is the author of the book?" Harry asked, curious about the book. A bestiary of faeries?

"I cannot say, I think this was an observation journal of someone of the past. If you look at the book, it was handmade." Hermione pointed out, which was true. The edges of the pages were frayed and uncut and upon closer inspection, strands of thread bounded the book together. "But please do believe when I say that this book can help us. Faerie dust is also known to have magical properties, and if I study this book closely enough, I can perhaps guess the other properties of the Angel Dust, and see how Professor Kirkland ties into this, alright?"

Harry and Ron thought for a moment and both the Gryffindor boys sighed. "Alright, we trust you."

From the acceptance of her friends, Hermione smiled brightly and leapt to her friends, hugging them both tightly. Pulling back, Hermione was a lot happier than before. "I won't fail you two! We will get to the bottom of this mystery!"

**VI**

When Arthur returned back to Hogwarts, Arthur was growing nervous about facing the other teachers. He'd jumpt into his room at Hogwarts, and was currently looking at himself in the mirror. The dark circles under his eyes were still visible, but only slightly. His hangover had faded to nothing more than a mere little headache thanks to the pills and marshmallows.

Sighing at his reflection, Arthur took a deep breath and left his room and traveled to the Grand Hall. Students roamed the halls and corridors, Arthur softly cursed when he realized that he forgot to get his cloak. Nonetheless, Arthur went about his way to the Grand Hall, by passing many students, Arthur wondered how any of the teachers could handle so many students yearly. Even Arthur didn't have to deal with so many Nations at hand.

As he entered the Grand Hall, Arthur was met with Remus, who was as raggedy as ever, and smiled lamely at him. "Hello Remus, how are you today?" He asked as he seated himself at the staff table.

"It was typical, nothing extravagant," Remus said as he grabbed himself an apple. "What I'm interested was how was _your_ morning? Hmm?" He asked, smiling knowingly and Arthur.

Arthur flushed and coughed into his fist. "Well, if you mean by the splitting headache I woke up with, um, not to well to start of a morning…" Arthur said as he used his fork to cut up his eggs. "I'm fine now though, a little tired, but I nothing I can't handle."

Remus snorted. "I can see, but how was your _night?" _He asked, nudging Arthur's side.

At this, Arthur choked and bounded at his chest to get the air back in him. "I can hardly think this is the time to talk about _that!_ And not to mention, a gentlemen doesn't kiss and tell."

Remus wiggled his brows and Arthur couldn't hold back a muffled laugh.

"Alright, alright. It was… everything a man could dream or hope of." Arthur said as he resumed to eating the rest of his meal. He however did jump when Remus slapped the back of his shoulder with a hearty laugh.

"I have to say Arthur, I would have never in a million years have guessed you are that type of man." Remus said, taking a bite of his apple.

"Well I could hardly blame you, I was pissed drunk and well my… friends have told me I could be quite… the sight when I'm drunk." Arthur said as he waved away the thought. "Nonetheless, there is a time and place for everything, so I believe right now is not the time for that."

"Alright, I've teased you enough, but let me ask. What do you plan for this 'Halloween party' of yours?" Remus asked, making Arthur raise a brow.

"Have you really not ever had a Halloween party?" Remus shook his head.

"I've spent most of my Halloweens in Hogwarts, and after graduating, I've spent my time working. I never really had time for a Halloween party." Or friends to share one with, but Arthur didn't really need to know that.

Nodding, Arthur sighed and leaned over the staff table, placing his elbows on top of the table and weaving his fingers together to rest his jaw atop them. "Well, Halloween parties are a tradition for me, so what I plan to do is make it extravagant— and that it to make it scary, thrilling, and of course fun."

"But you're also going to Hogsmeade, aren't you? When will you have the time to do this?"

Arthur shook his head. "Oh I'll have time. Hogwarts is the only place to use magic to set up a party. All I have to do is get the decorations and see a few friends." Arthur said, pulling back from the table and crossing his arms. "That— and I also have a few tricks up my sleeve."

Listening to Arthur, Remus nodded and smiled. "Then I can't wait to see what you'll do to Hogwarts."

"Neither can I," Arthur said, finishing up his meal. As he made a move to get up, Arthur jumped when he felt something jump into his lap. Looking down, Arthur smiled when he saw Excalibur nestled in his lap, although he frowned when he saw the toad in his mouth. Isn't that—

"Trevor?" Remus asked, looking at the toad being coddled by Excalibur. Why did Excalibur have Trevor in the first place?

Taking the toad from the Scottish Fold, Arthur ushered the cat away and got up. "Well, I'd better give Neville back his toad." Arthur turned his nose towards the cat and tsked. "Why did you have Trevor? You better have not have planned to eat him." Arthur chided as he walked away. Excalibur only cocked his head and followed his master and Arthur made his way over to the Gryffindor table to give Neville back his toad.

At the Gryffindor table, Neville was seated next to Hermione and Arthur tapped his shoulder to gain his attention. The Golden Trio had stopped talking in favour of paying attention to their odd teacher, like why the professor was holding Neville's toad.

"Is this your toad Neville?" Arthur asked, lowering the toad towards Neville. Neville's brows rose and he gasped as he took the toad from Arthur's hand.

"Trevor! Where did you find him? I've been looking for him all morning!" The clumsy Gryffindor boy asked and he looked at the small toad in his hands.

"Excalibur had him, but I haven't the faintest clue as to why." Arthur explained, looking down at his pet in wonderment.

"Oh, well, thank you for finding him Professor Kirkland." Neville thanked, pocketing the small toad.

"Not at all, Neville." Arthur said, waving goodbye to the Gryffindors and heading towards his Muggle Studies room. He needed to write a few letters…

**VII**

Entering his room, Arthur strolled over to his desk and took out some papers from a compartment. Grabbing a pen, Arthur sat down in his seat and thought for a moment. He needed to think out who he needed to talk and what he would say. Even with magic, he still needed help with his Halloween parties. But who to write to was the question. Teetering the pen between his fingers, Arthur bit his lip and began to tap the desk with his pen.

He thought about the most decorative people that he knew. There was Matthew, but given that it was a Halloween party and taking place inside Hogwarts, Matthew, like Alfred, had little tolerance to ghosts. There also Francis, but Arthur would rather die that ask the Frog for help. His brothers? Arthur shook his head. No. That was just a terrible idea, so that idea was thrown to the gutters.

Or perhaps he should contact Lukas and Aurel? Or were they busy with their own plans? What of his Commonwealth? And which of them would be more than helpful...

Sighing, Arthur brought the pen up towards his lips and rolled the cap over his bottom lip in thought. Humming, Arthur brought the pen away and shrugged. Might as well try all and see who is able to help him.

Writing the letters, Arthur placed them in separate envelopes and sealed them before heading towards the owlry. Once he was at the owlry, Arthur looked around and saw no one else there went forth with his business. Looking around, Arthur sought for which owls he should use to send his messages, as the birds would have to travel far to deliver the messages.

Taking a selection of a grey, brown, and honey brown owls, Arthur gave a letter or to send towards his "friends", if you could call them so. Directing the owls of where their flight path would take, Arthur saw each owl fly off and watched the birds fly and he crossed his arms and hoped they would reach their destination.

And seeing that he was done with his errands, Arthur headed towards his room. He had papers to grade after all.

**VIII**

On the day of Halloween, almost everyone on Hogwarts was bustling with excitement for their first Hogsmeade weekend— all except Harry. It had been almost a little over a week since Hermione discovered the true nature of the golden dust, Angel Dust (which could oddly withstand being eaten). And in the days prior of today, everybody had been giving Harry a pity party, including Alfred.

Harry did not need everyone's pity or suggestions; he just wanted to go his on his day without somebody stopping him to tell him how sorry they were or if there was a way for them to help, or even go as far as saying that Hogsmeade wasn't all that great, but then go about all the things they were going to buy. This only made Harry further depressed, but he tried awfully hard to put it past him.

So as he ate breakfast, he felt somewhat happy that Hermione and Ron offered to get him some sort of memento, so that he wouldn't truly be left out of the Hogsmeade experience. He noticed that the two seemed to have gotten on better grounds even, no longer bringing up their little spat about Crookshanks and Scabbers, which was a relief to Harry. It was difficult being in a friendship when two of your best friends were giving each other the silent treatment.

Alfred on the other hand was just as excited to go to Hogsmeade that he had been following Professor Kirkland the entire morning. He seemed to have gone back to normal since that night in the common room. The trio could clearly see how annoyed Kirkland was with Alfred. He was holding his fork so tightly they feared it would suddenly snap in his hand.

There was also another thing. Apparently, Professor Kirkland would also be chaperoning the trip to Hogsmeade. McGonagall explained it was a recent development, but nothing to worry about. None of the students complained, as they saw nothing wrong with it. However Malfoy did object to the idea, saying that Kirkland would just "get lost there too." Nobody understood this until Malfoy started gloating that the first time he met Professor Kirkland it was in Knockturn Alley and the man was just wandering about the place without a clue. He didn't shut up until Seamus asked why he was in Knockturn Alley in the first place.

So as Harry accompanied Ron, Hermione, Alfred and nearly the rest of Hogwarts at the entrance hall, McGonagall, Kirkland, and Fitch were up at the doors watch the students file out. Fitch held a long list and was grumbling to himself as he accounted for all the students allowed and not allowed to go to Hogsmeade, and every once in a while, he would send a suspicious leer to a student or two and grumble to himself once more.

Snickering, Malfoy along with his two chumps Crabbe and Goyle diverted Harry's attention away from the student. "Staying here, Potter? Scared of passing the Dementors?" He shouted out smugly, turning towards a Crabbe and Goyle who were shaking with feign fear to mock Harry.

Harry ignored him and made his solitary way up the marble staircase…

**IX**

When Alfred had reached Hogsmeade with the rest of the Hogwarts students, Alfred was bouncing off the walls when he looked around the little British village. It was nothing he'd ever seen, but before he could even go running off, McGonagall stopped all the students to lay out the rules of their responsibility while at Hogsmeade.

"Now children, while you are here at Hogsmeade, you are to act appropriate and stray from misbehavior. You are representing Hogwarts and thus you cannot act like a crowd of unruly hooligans, understand?" McGonagall started, looking at the children with a stern eye. "You may look about the shops, but if I hear any incident of thievery, you will be standing by my side or Professor Kirkland's the entire trip here. Aside that, you are to not travel astray and will cooperate with the buddy system, so find a group and stay with them. Is that understood?"

With a chorus of "Yes Professor McGonagall", the Gryffindor headmistress was pleased with the answer and nodded. "Alright, you may go off about your business. But remember! All offenses will be given corresponding punishments!" McGonagall shouted as the large group of student dispersed into the wizarding village. "Also on a side note! Professor Kirkland will be holding a Halloween party at Hogwarts and he insists you all dress in costume! So remember to buy yourself a costume while you're here!"

Looking around, Alfred quickly left to Arthur side and wore an eager grin on his lips. "Okay! Where are we going first?" Alfred exclaimed as he bounced on his heels.

Arthur crossed his arms and sent Alfred a displeased look and snorted. "Calm down. First, because today is Halloween, we'll be going to the Gladrags Wizardwear, we're— well you— are going to get yourself a Halloween costume as McGonagall had said. Then after that, we'll locate a branch of the Magical Menagerie and then we can look around— or at least you can." Arthur said as he looked around.

"M'kay," Alfred hummed as he looked around the snowy village.

Walking about the village with snow crunching from their steps, Arthur and Alfred had set off to find the Gladrags Wizardwear in order for him to get a costume. From the cold weather, Alfred was clutching his cloak with him while Arthur was content with the red turtleneck he wore, which Alfred found strange because he was wearing a hoodie underneath his cloak and he was _still_ cold. He wondered if Gladrags Wizardwear had any sort of magical winter wear that would keep him warm all winter. Wouldn't that be wonderful?

When Alfred and Arthur found Gladrags Wizardwear, Alfred noted the building to be a bit tattered looking, like an old comfy, even if ugly, sweater stuffed in closet for so long enough, yet once taken out to still be enjoyable to wear for the fond, old memories it held. Standing before the old little shop, Alfred looked at Arthur who ushered him to go inside.

Stepping inside the shop with a chime signifying his and Arthur's presence, Alfred raised a brow in interest. The store looked like some old flea market filled with clothes and accessories. There were racks filled with draped clothing with assorted colors, from bright blues to gloomy greens to rich reds and the fabric of each ensemble ranged from scratchy wool to lustrous silks. There were odd hat racks that danced or walked around the shop, carrying tipsy-turby top hats, flamboyant fedoras, tittering ties, bashful bows, and even much more miscellaneous hats and ties. There was even a wall dedicated to rows and columns of queer socks, from frivolous flashy socks, to plain yet scented socks, to even invisible socks.

'_Weird,'_ Alfred thought as he read the little advertisement of _Gladrags Wizardwear's Specialty Socks!_ Why would anyone want invisible socks? _'It's probably not even invisi— holy crap it is!'_ Alfred thought as he felt a pair of cotton socks in his hand and yet saw nothing in his hand as he held up the pair. What exactly was the point of invisible socks? How could you ever tell if they were dirty or what if you lost one? Or, well, both in this case. Shaking his head, Alfred deciding to just ignore the odd socks, he could see why they were considered a specialty…

"Alfred what are you doing? You're supposed to be looking for a costume, aren't you?" Arthur asked as he gestured to his left. "Why don't you try over there? I'm sure I saw some costumes over there."

"A'ight," Alfred hummed, sidestepping some spinning racks, Alfred saw a space dedicated to Halloween. He found it interesting to see little much of anything. How did wizards exactly celebrate Halloween? Surely the Muggle-born would know, right? But if they would always be at Hogwarts during Halloween, would they even know what "trick or treat" mean? He had to talk with Arthur about that, but first he had a costume to find.

Looking over the costumes, Alfred's choices were a bit limited, but how many times before had he shopped late for Halloween and have to make due with cheap or tacky Halloween costumes? Looking at a troll costume, Alfred hardly humored the thought of being a troll and looked at the next costume. Faerie? Nope, not even going to try. It was when Alfred nearly brushed aside a werewolf costume, his attention perked and Alfred grew interested.

Examining the werewolf costume, Alfred found it morbid and mangy— "Perfect! Dude, I wonder if I could add jeans and a letterman to this— I'd be like MJ!" Content with his finds, Alfred came over to Arthur with a smile on his face. "Look! I'm going to be a werewolf, awesome right?"

Turning back and seeing the costume in Alfred's hand, Arthur nearly panicked by Alfred's choice of words. "Ah, yes, but I'd be careful with what you say, alright?" Arthur said as he took out his pouch of money. "Come on, over to the till."

"Alright, pirate money." Alfred snickered as he walked over to the register to with Arthur.

"It's not— just give the man your costume so we can pay and leave!" Arthur huffed as he readied his money.

When Alfred had gotten done with Alfred's costume shopping, he and Arthur left Gladrags Wizardwear, Alfred holding his purchase happily. He'd never had a Halloween quite like this— with wizards and whatnot, but he imagined that it would be amazing, because instead of using tricks and mirrors and calling it "magic", he would be seeing actual magic. Of course, it's not as to say Alfred had never seen actual magic before, but old tricks and mirrors were just a nice, homey touch considering all the effort placed into them in order to pull them off in front of crowds.

As he and Arthur shuffled through the snow, passing by an Ollivanders Wand Shop, it wasn't long before the two covert nations found a Magical Menagerie and Eeylops Owl Emporium and Alfred was running circles around Arthur in excitement. He was going to get a pet of his liking, and even though nothing was wrong with Whaley, Whaley wasn't exactly a portable pet like a cat or dog…

"I'm gonna get a pet! I'm gonna get a pet!" Alfred chanted, causing people to cast amused, bemused, and confused looks at Alfred, but he couldn't are less because he was going to get a pet!

"It's 'going to' not 'gonna'." Arthur chided before huffing in disbelief. "Now, before we go in, Hogwarts only allows cats, toads, and owls inside the campus. Understand? So you will enter the stores with the mind of getting a cat, owl, or toad— nothing else."

"But Ron has Scabbers and he's not a cat, owl, _or_ toad." Alfred pointed out. Arthur opened his mouth to speak but stopped and thought for a moment.

"You're getting a cat, owl, or toad. Nothing else." Arthur growled as Alfred let out a gasp as he feigned shock and surprise.

"Not even food? I can't my little pet a snack or even a toy?"

Arthur sent Alfred an unamused looked, although his brows furrowed with displeasure. "You know very damn well of what I meant." Alfred only replied with a cheeky smile.

"Still, why is Ron allowed to have Scabbers?"

"I'm going to assume nobody actually cares that he carries a rat with him…"

**X **

When the two had long entered the Magical Menagerie, which was by the Eeylops Owl Emporium, Arthur was following Alfred around the shop and watching Alfred fawn over all the different creatures. This shop was no different from the one in Diagon Alley, and so it too smelt putrid and Arthur was taking shallow breaths to avoid breathing in the scent of foul odors.

They were currently at the cat sections of the shop, and Alfred had his face pressed up against the bars, "purring" to get a cat's attention— it however paid no heed to Alfred. Pulling back from the cat's cage, Alfred pursed his lips and hummed.

"Hmm… I don't think I want this—" Alfred peered at the brief description of the cat. "British Shorthair. I need something more American." Alfred giggled as he turned his attention to the other cats on display.

Arthur rolled his eyes at Alfred's attempt to "talk" with the cat. "Hurry up and pick one already, or do you plan to spend your entire trip here?"

"Hey, hey. Don't rush me. I don't want to pick a cat that hates me or something. My cat's gotta be amazing and totally awesome 'cause then Excal'll have an amazing and awesome friend!" Alfred exclaimed, skipping down the row of cats and kittens.

Stopping, Alfred examined a number of calico, tabby, and different breeds of cats that made him coo or laugh. However, one cat got his attention. It was a moderately sized cat, probably as big his forearm, and it held an almost majestic air about him. The cat was mostly a variant of white hues sans for the brown-grey patches of fur around its neck and along its tail. The fur was long and shaggy on its body and tail, and it came short and fluffy along its legs and face. The ears were a fair size and sharp, the snout was somewhat short and stout and the eyes were the most brightest stark-blue eyes Alfred hard even seen.

"Oh my God, this cat is like the Adonis of all cats. It's like a fucking lion and a wolf!" Alfred gaped and he gawked at the cat. Arthur furrowed his brows and looked at the cat's description.

"That's a Maine Coon, Alfred." Arthur informed as Alfred fawned over the cat's appearance. "Or American Longhair if that's American enough for you."

"It looks so fluffy and soft and so amazing! Arthur I know what cat I want to get!" Alfred beamed as he looked at Arthur.

"It is the Maine Coon?" Arthur guessed, raising a brow at Alfred. Alfred nodded and made a grab for that cat.

"I'ma call him Courage 'cause he's like a lion with that mane of his." Alfred said as he lifted up the cat by its underarms. The cat's long and fluffy tail swished and the cat extended out its forearms as the cat stared bemusedly at Alfred.

"Alfred, that's a girl." Arthur corrected as he looked at the cat.

Alfred cocked his head. "What? How can you tell?" Alfred asked as he looked at the cat-in-question.

"Well, do you see a prick on that thing? — that, and only female cats have three shades of colour." Arthur explained.

"Color."

"Oh of course, forgive me. It's not like I made the language or anything important."

"Can I still call her Courage?" Alfred asked, adjusting the cat in his arms so that Courage could relax in his arms.

"I don't think she'll mind," Arthur said as he started over to look at animal accessories and necessities. "Come on, you need to pick out her food and whatnot for her. But don't go overboard; I will _not_ help you carry anything."

"M'kay," Alfred hummed as he walked over to Arthur. Looking at the number of collars, cat toys, and treats, Alfred thought about getting Courage a collar, but decided against it. She would look silly with a collar considering her very fluffy, longs haired coat. However, she wouldn't look too bad with a ribbon.

So fingering through the choices of ribbon, Alfred selected a fuchsia ribbon with black polka dots, a mouse toy, and then a few cat treats for Courage. Done with his light shopping, Alfred turned toward Arthur.

"Okay, I'm down, can we go to the register, I don't think I can hold all of this." Alfred said, gesturing to all the materials and Courage in his hand.

"Yes, yes." Arthur said, taking out his pouch of money in order to be ready for their purchase.

Once at the counter, Alfred settled down Courage first and followed by the materials afterward. Grabbing the ribbon, Alfred carefully tied it around Courage's neck and Arthur then ringed for the cashier, who was tending to some ferret merchandise.

It didn't take long for Arthur to pay for everything, and with the snacks and toy in bag, Alfred was doting on his new feline, brushing his fingers through Courage's long fur. With everything paid for, both the Englishman and the America were almost out the door when Alfred stopped.

"Uh, Arthur?"

"Yes?" Arthur asked, pausing at the door and turning back to Alfred.

"Why does it say that you're missing?" Arthur contorted his face in confusion.

"Why would I be missing? Where does it say that I'm missing?" Arthur asked, following Alfred's gaze and stopping when he saw a poster with his face on it, which was interesting as it was a _Muggle_ photo. Aside that poster was newsprints and another poster of Sirius Black…

"What the—?" Arthur asked as he grabbed the paper from the wall and looked at it, flipping it back and forth to see for the authenticity of it.

**HAVE YOU SEEN THIS WIZARD?**

NAME: ARTHUR KIRKLAND

AGE: BETWEEN LATE TEENS AND EARLY TWENTIES

HAIR: ASH BLONDE

EYES: GREEN

REPORTED MISSING IN SEPTEMBER BY THE ENGLISH MUGGLE PARLIAMENT AND WITNESSES HAVE REPORTED KIRKLAND TO HAVE BEEN SIGHTED IN DIAGON AND KNOCKTURN ALLEY IN LATE AUGUST. ONE REPORT IS THAT KIRKLAND HAD STOLEN ITEMS OF VALUE FROM GRINGOTTS— IT IS UNDECIDED IF THIS REPORT IS CREDIBLE OR NOT.

IF YOU SEE THIS WIZARD, PROCEED WITH CAUTION. IT IS UNKNOWN IF THIS WIZARD IS A THREAT OR NOT. IT IS HOWEVER KNOWN THAT HE HAS HAD CHARGES OF DISORDERLY CONDUCT, OPEN CONTAINER, DUI (Driving Under the Influence— similar to Apparating While Obnoxiously Lashed*), TRESPASSING, AND VANDALISM IN THE MUGGLE WORLD.

IF SEEN, CONTACT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC OR THE ENGLISH MUGGLE PARLIAMENT.

Arthur gaped when he saw the who-to-contact. What in the world was this supposed to mean? "Was it absolutely necessary to talk about my past record? It's like they're _trying_ to make me out to be some sort of _rogue_ on the run!" Arthur growled before folding up paper and pocketing it. "I am _not_ a threat to anyone and I didn't steal anything!" He huffed sourly.

"So do you know what was up with that?" Alfred asked as they left the store, the shop's attendant staring blankly at Arthur with a perplexed look about his face.

Arthur sighed. "It's blasphemy is what it is. I'm not missing, I didn't steal anything, and _they_ know that— or at least they should. Regardless, I'll deal with that matter later." Arthur said, brushing away the question. "Now, anywhere else you want to go to?"

Alfred looked at Courage and hummed. "Hmm… How about Honeydukes? Ron was talking about it earlier when we were in the carriages." Alfred said as he nuzzled Courage, who didn't seem to mind Alfred's affection. She just seemed to ignore him. "Oh God, it's like hugging a cloud." Alfred cooed into the cat's fur as he and Arthur began to walk about the village.

Arthur shrugged. "Alright."

**XI **

As Alfred and Arthur made way to the sweet shop,they entered Honeydukes and Alfred felt as if he was at Willy Wonka's chocolate factory. There were aisles and shelves littered with teeth-rotting goods and the entire store was jam-packed with people crowding the aisles, tables, and shelves as the grabbed for the colourful sweets.

"Alfred, you'll have to leave Courage outside," Arthur started as he grabbed Courage from Alfred's hands along with Courage's things, and in return gave Alfred his money-bag. "The bronze coins are knuts, the silver are sickles, and the gold are galleons. Can you remember that?" Arthur asked as he fixed Courage in his arms. The Maine Coon responded by pushing Arthur's face away with her paw.

"Bronze knuts, silver sickles, and gold galleons. Got it." Alfred chimed as he left Arthur's side in favour of exploring the shop.

"I'll be with Professor McGonagall, so make sure you find somebody you know to travel around with, alright?" Arthur called out, frowning when Alfred's response was just a wave. Sighing, Arthur left Alfred to do his shopping.

Looking about the colourful shop, Alfred picked up one of the candies. "Exploding Bonbons? They don't really explode…Do they?" Alfred asked as he subconsciously grabbed his jaw. He placed the candy back down. He liked having his jaw, so no Exploding Bonbons for him.

Looking again, Alfred picked up another candy. "Fizzing Whizbees?" The candy didn't look questionable like the other candy, so he grabbed a package and began to look for more candies. As he peered around, there was a table offering free samples of a new fudge of sorts.

A lot of the treats looked very delicious while others very questionable. While there, picked an assortment of candies, from Honeydukes famous chocolates to gummies, Alfred picked the most alluring types of sugary, sour, and odd sweets. When he paid for his items, there too was missing person's poster of Arthur, but Alfred paid no attention to it. By the time Alfred left the candy shop, Arthur had lost quite a few galleons and Alfred was happy with his purchase.

As he left the store, Alfred saw Hermione and Ron heading over to Zonko's Joke Shop. Catching up with the two, Alfred waved hello and asked how their time was at Hogsmeade. Ron begrudgingly explained that they had first dropped by Dervish and Banges so the Hermione could buy some more school supplies and the left to the Three Broomsticks, Hogsmeade's Post Office, Gladrags Wizardwear, and that they decided to go to Zonko's.

"Oh, Alfred. Do you know why there are posters asking for Professor Kirkland? They're saying that he's missing, and the papers make him out to be a danger to us." Hermione asked, pulling out one of the posters from one of her shopping bags. "Though I do wonder why the Ministry would use a Muggle photo… Quite strange really…"

"Oh that, oh it's nothing. At least I think so. It's prolly a joke or something." Alfred said as he shrugged off the question.

"But why would someone joke about that? It sounds pretty serious to joke about Alfred." Hermione asked, puzzled by the, well, the fact that Alfred was so easy to brush off the subject.

"Arthur's a good guy, so you don't have to worry about him doing anything. Now about those posters? I don't know, you're kind of asking the wrong person," Alfred chuckled weakly as the trio headed over to Zonko's.

Hermione pursed her lips. "Hmm..." Hermione hummed, thinking strange of the situation.

Upon entering Zonko's, Alfred concluded that it was the toy-equivalent to Honeydukes. Instead of candies, toys, tricks, and practical jokes lined up the store's walls, windows, tables, and dangled from the ceiling. Confetti was popping and glitter littered the floor as little broomsticks spiraled in the air along with little batty toys and wind-up frogs hopping about. Bells were jingling, horns buzzing, whistles blowing, and crackers cackling as odd potions boiled, bubbled, and popped.

The store was filled with kids fiddling with the strange nick-knacks and Ron was telling Alfred all the pranks that could be pulled off with Zonko's tricks. Alfred liked this shop— it was like a magical joke store and it _was_.

"This place is awesome!" Alfred said as he walked about the colourful shop. If Matthias and Gilbert were here with him, they'd go crazy with the shop! Why weren't they this involved in magic again? Or were they and just didn't talk about it? He should bring it up to them because setting off these tricks during meeting with old man White or Ludwig in the room would be a hoot. Heck, he was pretty sure Lovino would want in on this if it meant to piss off Ludwig. So looking around the store, Alfred picked up all sorts of tricks like Dungbombs and Hiccough Sweets. There was even a fake bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans that came in rancid flavours and then there were some Sugar Quills here as well.

Picking up a bottle that read "TRY ME!", Alfred peered at the label. "Transfoamation:* Just lather it on to see what happens next…" Alfred cocked his head and wondered for a moment. Alfred placed the bottle down. It was probably best _not_ to see what happens next.

Toying with a box of Dancing Lizards*, everyone turned their heads when Professor McGonagall entered the shop. "To all Hogwarts students, we will be going back to the castle shortly, so please make your purchases quickly." And with that, McGonagall left as quickly as she entered.

Hermione looked towards Ron, "Oh we need to go to Honeydukes! We promised Harry!" Hermione said, pulling Ron out of the shop after he bought some Shock-O-Choc, Dungbombs, Wild Witty Confetti*, and Sour Punch Limes*.

"Well, we wouldn't have to hurry if we didn't spend so much time at the post office!" Ron huffed as he followed Hermione out of the store.

Alfred laughed at the two and went to make his purchase. As he paid for his sweets, there too was another missing person's poster of Arthur, although of course it seemed more like a wanted person's poster. Alfred took the poster and looked at it. _'Man Artie, who'd you piss off for this to happen?'_

**XII**

Upon gathering at Hogsmeade Station, McGonagall and Arthur accounted for all the students before ushering them inside the train on the return trip back to Hogwarts. Alfred had to say, his experience here was amazing and he liked it. It was something he'd expect from a back, but it was real and that's what made it amazing. Still, he preferred his magic at home, but European magic was fine too. It was more practical.

So as he and other students filed into the corridors of the train, Alfred seated himself next to Hermione and Ron, and both were admiring their newly-bought goods. They bought a stash of candy, Hermione had some new quills, ink, and parchment, and Ron had his tricks and treats. All the while, Alfred was happy with his candy and his tricks— and wait, where was Courage and Arthur? Getting up, Alfred was up about to leave to look for Arthur when the man-in-questioned entered the corridor with Courage in hand.

"Courage!" Alfred cheered as he took the feline from Arthur's hands. Burying his face into Courage's fur, Alfred chimed in delight. "Oh my God, she's so soft."

"Yes, you've already made that point Alfred." Arthur said, handing Alfred the bag filled with Courage's things. Ron blanched.

"There's another of those things!? Oh Merlin's underpants! Scabbers is going to have a heart attack!" Ron groaned as he buried his face into his palms. Hermione gave him a worried look.

"Um, I'm sure he'll be alright? Just— erm— look out for him." Hermione said, looking at Courage, who was kneading her paws into Alfred's cheeks. Arthur was looking at Alfred with a deadpanned look.

"Well, my business is done here. I'll be will Professor McGonagall. We'll be back at Hogwarts with a moment's notice." Arthur informed as he disappeared into the train's corridors.

Alfred left back into his seat and toyed with Courage, the cat meowed and tried nipping at his fingers and using her paws to grab his hand. Alfred giggled and continued to mess with Courage. Hermione smiled to see that Alfred was enjoying his new pet; however Ron on the other hand was miserable about Scabbers.

When they finally returned to Hogwarts, it was disk and all the students took to the carriages and began the trip around Black Lake, chattering excitedly with each other about what they did and saw at Hogsmeade, as well as gossip as to why Arthur Kirkland was a Missing Person in the Muggle world.

When Alfred, Hermione, and Ron found Harry in the common room and dumped all of his candy before him.

"There you go," said Ron. "We got as much as we could carry…"

**XIII**

While the students were busy in their corridors and preparing for the feast and Halloween party, Arthur was in his room going through his letters. Jett, Chase, and Raj were unable to go due to their own plans, but Lukas, Aurel, and Matthew were able to fit him into their schedule, which made Arthur happy that they could come. Only they could understand his passion for the magic world and they didn't annoy him either, so he was quite content at the moment.

He had clear instructions for them in their letters to jump into his room inside his room in Hogwarts and then from there then on, all they had to do was set up the decorations with a little help of magic. So all that left was for Arthur was to get the supplies, which shouldn't take long. They were inside his home.

So jumping back towards his home, Arthur wandered to his hall and then proceeded to enter inside his basement, which seemed to have collected quite a bit of dust. Wafting the air, Arthur eyes watered as he flicked on the lights and Arthur cupped his mouth as he wandered to the end of the basement to prop up a window or two.

Sighing as the air began to freshen up, Arthur looked around and began to search his basement. Opening a door to two, reveal underground tunnels and rooms, Arthur peered through every one until he stopped at one and sighed with content.

"There you are," Arthur said as he patted away dust from a rather large box, Arthur opened up a box and peered inside and was confirmed that it was indeed a box filled with decorations, and that the other two boxes around it were too filled with Halloween decorations. Stepping back, Arthur pondered for a moment. He needed to get these boxes to Hogwarts.

"_Nazure, Juniper; can you come help me for a tick?"_ Arthur called out, waiting for the faerie to appear. It wasn't a moment soon that Nazure and Juniper appeared before him.

Juniper was a male faerie and he countered Nazure's shrinking abilities by specializing in making things grow bigger. His skin was darker than any sun-kissed skin and his short ginger hair was frayed with traces of sun-bleached blonde hairs. His eyes were a light pale brown and dark freckles brushed along his cheeks and nose. He was dressed in yellow and white daisy petals and there was a grass knot tied around his wrist. His wings were short, wide, and undulated like a butterfly, but they had thick waves of white and brown following the dichotomous pattern of his veins with hues of yellow speckled across his wings.

"_What do you need help with Mr. England?"_ The two faeries chorused as they hovered in the air, Nazure like a bee and Juniper more like a butterfly.

"_First, I need Nazure to shrink theses boxes, can you do that?" _England asked as he looked at the cyan-clad faerie.

Nazure looked at the boxes and nodded. _"Yes Mr. England, I can do that."_ And with that, Nazure zoomed over to the boxes, sprinkling faerie dust over all the boxes until they shrunk into a minimal size. Walking towards the now small of boxes, England picked them up and pocketed the item.

Turning around, England smiled and offered his hand towards the faerie. When Nazure perched herself on top of Arthur fingers, she smiled as England pressed a kiss onto her head. Seeing that her work was done, Nazure curtsied before disappearing into seemingly nowhere, but simply returning to the Fae Kingdom.

Looking at Juniper, England held up a finger. _"Hold on a tick, I need to get something just before we leave for Hogwarts, alright?"_ England said and he walked up towards a wardrobe inside the basement. Opening up the wardrobe, England peered through the contents. The clothes and accessories inside were old and riddled with age, but still intact. These clothes were some of the clothes that survived in through the ages and as England sorted out through the clothing, England smiled and took out an ensemble of 18th Century wear.

It was a suit with a simple white loose, rustled dress shirt, but it had a double-breasted brocade shawl-collar with a dark red floral pattern, a white, patterned waistcoat, and the breeches were black, but upon closer inspection, one could make-out intricate floral designs as well. There was also a greatcoat and it was black as well, but with white, red, and gold lace and embroidery decorating it, along with some accessories as well like a black and red cane with a gold lion head as a handle. Grabbing the suit, England grabbed a pair of black and white Hessian boots and looked for something to place his "costume" inside. He found a suitcase and decided to stuff the suit inside.

Turning towards Juniper, England nodded. _"Alright, I'm ready. Hold on, I'm going to jump back towards Hogwarts, alright?"_ England said, watching Juniper fly towards him and holding onto his neck as he balanced on his shoulder. Jumping back into Hogwarts, England briefly wondered about Hogwarts' "impassible" security precautions and continued with his plans. As he set down the suitcase, England took out the miniature boxes from his pocket and settled them on the floor. _"Alright Juniper, you may tend to you request now."_ England informed as he motioned to the boxes.

"_Ay Mr. England."_ Juniper answered as he glided over to the boxes and dashed his pixie dust over to boxes to grow them in their original size. Once down, Juniper bowed and hopped onto the hand England offered and awaited his kiss to the head.

As England bid Juniper goodbye and began to open up the boxes to take out the materials. However, as England pulled out some black mesh, England jumped when somebody jumped onto his back. Shouting out in surprise, England elbowed the person behind him and sprinted away before turning back to his attacker of sorts— which turned out to be Romania, who was dressed as… Well England wasn't quite sure.

Romania sported a patterned brown hooded robe of sorts, the pattern being mix of white spots and lines. The costume had long sleeves with the ends of the robe split into four long cuts and the leggings Romania wore underneath sported the same pattern as the costume.

Rubbing his stomach, Romania groaned to his discomfort and looked up at England with a frown. "Uh, ouch, Arthur. That was uncalled for."

"As was jumping on my back Aurel. Hasn't anyone told you to make your presence notice before introducing yourself to someone? Honestly that scared me half to death!" Arthur huffed as he stamped his foot.

Aurel flicked his wrist and rolled his eyes. "Probably, but that isn't important right now. Me, Lukas, Francis, and… Matthew are going to make this place absolutely wicked that even the ghost will be afraid." Aurel boasted before heading out for towards Arthur's door and heading out.

Arthur's face contorted into one of anger. "Francis!? I did not invite that bloody frog to come here! Why would you—"

"Ah… No. I didn't invite him." Aurel called out as he left down the hall, his boots clicking against the cold stone floors.

"Then who—" Arthur groaned and rubbed at his temples. "Matthew…" Without a doubt the younger nation would have done so, and perhaps not even intentionally, more like the frog just latched himself onto Matthew for the ride. Just what he needed: a dose of aggravation, however before Aurel ran off too far…

"Wait! Aurel, what exactly are you dressed as?" Arthur said as he narrowed his eyes, still trying to make out the costume, if it was one.

Aurel stopped and turned on his heel, looking down at himself and then Arthur, looking quite exasperated.

"What? I'm an octopus!"

"…What."

"The Mimic Octopus to be exact. Nifty, eh?"

"…"

**XIV**

When Arthur followed Aurel into the Grand Hall, rounding up all the other nations, Arthur did a headcount and was content that there weren't any other ticks that joined along. Aurel was swishing his one of his tentacles as Lukas toyed with a strand of straw in his mouth. Matthew was his quiet self and Arthur ignored the other presence standing by him. All the nations were lined shoulder-to-shoulder and a few were dressed up, and by few it was just Aurel— unless Lukas wearing a frayed straw hat with hatched crossings sketched on his cheek meant something…

"Alright, thank you all for accepting my invitation to help me and Dumbledore decorate Hogwarts. We appreciate the help." Arthur began as he pointed to the boxes next to him. "These boxes are filled with the decorations, so use whatever to your heart's content. Just be careful though, some of the objects inside are cursed so try not to break anything."

"Ah… That sounds easy enough, right Lukas?" Aurel smiled as Lukas gave a stout nod.

"Just enough to amaze the students, but to still scare Alfred." Lukas spoke out bluntly, causing Arthur to cough into his fist to conceal his actual plans.

"Such a kidder, aren't you? Righto, any questions or shall we move on to decorating?" Arthur asked as he looked around.

"Yes, now why do you need our help black sheep? Can't you just twirl your little wand and be done with this already?" Francis asked as Arthur narrowed his eyes in agitation.

"Do you see the size of this castle? Even with magic, it would take me a while to decorate, and if you've gotten any word from Rossi, which by no doubt you do — and a penny for a thought, I did not what so ever appreciate the little present you and my brothers plotted for me — you know why I need help." Arthur snapped as he leered at Francis.

At this Francis smirked and turned his head towards Matthew and whispering something and causing the Canadian to frown a bit while he laughed instead. Said Frenchman was twirling his hair with his sycamore wand and looking awfully smug to Arthur. He was dressed in a stark-white blouse and wore form-fitting black trousers with dark brown brogan shoes. His hair was tied back and his bangs fell to the side of his face and Arthur was sure he could see a hairpin or two. Just something about him made him want to pull a bag over his head— or in a body bag.

Matthew was probably the most casually dressed person in them room. He was clad in a large grey tee with a brown jacket over it, and then a pair of faded jeans and tennis shoes. Alongside him was also his bear, Kumajiro, and the polar bear was awfully lax beside his owner, resting against Matthew's leg. Arthur wondered if he needed to be on a leash or something.

Pursing his lips, almost wanting to edge the Frenchman to say something else so that he could strangle him, Arthur nodded. "Alright, if no one has anything else to say, we'll begin— also, don't go search for Alfred. The last thing I need him to do is cause a ruckus." Or ruin the surprise.

Stepping over to Dumbledore, in which stood McGonagall, Snape, and Filch at his side in observation of the sudden people who had popped out of nowhere in Hogwarts. The two professors had seen the sudden strangers walk through the halls as if it was their right and Filch made it aware to allow that he had let anyone in with his constant ramblings of "I swear I didn't let them in professor."

Regardless of the oddity, Dumbledore was grinning to himself with his hands folded over one another as they draped down his lap. He seemed very relaxed and pleased despite Hogwarts somehow being infiltrated by strangers whereas McGonagall was more or less confused and anxious to know what was going on. Snape on the other hand, although just as aware of the situation as McGonagall was, seemed more menacing and annoyed in the presence of Aurel, Lukas, Matthew, and Francis.

"Professor Kirkland, not that I'd like to come off as rude, but who are these men?" The Transfigurations teacher asked as she looked around like a doting mother who had just found strangers just lurking about her home.

"Yes," Snape drawled out as he leered at Arthur and then the covert nations. "I believe we do have to right to know of these… trespassers."

Arthur scoffed towards Snape, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "They're not trespassers— except for the frog. Punish him any way you like. Hell, if you even transfigure, turn, or curse him into an actual frog, I'd be in your debt." Arthur said, humming as if he was actually contemplating on whether to do as he had just said. "Regardless of that, they're my colleagues of the 'Muggle' world, Francis included unfortunately." Arthur sighed before he saw Lukas waving at him. "I'll be but a moment."

Heading over to the other Nations, Arthur walked towards Lukas when said Nation pushed a staff into his arms. Looking at the staff, Arthur recognized it as his old staff just before he moved onto his wand. It was made out of dark oak and it was a quite beautiful one at that. It was elongated and polished, and at the narrow tip of the staff, it twirled like a drill, and at the wider end of the staff, it split into two and twirled as well. The staff was grooved and most noticeably, it was shaped like a snake with two heads with jades for eyes.

Arthur cocked his head and looked at Lukas with astonishment. "Where did you find this?" He asked as he traced his fingers across his staff. How long has this been missing again? A couple some hundred years?

"It was in one of those boxes you brought in." Lukas informed as he twirled his alder wand before using it to cover the now-black curtains of Hogwarts with black mesh and ribbon.

"Oh…" Hmm, he wondered how it got there. "Well thank you for finding it."

"The faeries informed me that she broke your wand." Lukas spoke, concentration on the curtains as he did so.

"Unfortunately so," Arthur sulked as he looked down at the staff in his hand.

"Do you know as to why?"

"She wanted to have some fun is what she said. Although I don't understand why of all times, doesn't she understand how badly this can turn out for me?"

"Perhaps if you get Feliciano or Lo—"

"No!" Arthur scoffed as he turned to Lukas with an abhorred looked about his face. "As if I want any of those two near me much less ask help from them. I can deal with this on my own; Alice said she would fix my wand anyway so there's no point in dragging in _those_ two."

"And when would that be?" Lukas challenged as he finished up with the wall décor. Arthur puffed out his chest and quickly deflated.

"Thank you for finding my staff, but if you'll excuse me, I'll be helping the others with the decorations." And with that, Arthur turned on his heel and stalked over to his decorations, feeling a bit peeved by Lukas' suggestion. As if he would stoop so low to request help from the Vargas brothers!

With these thoughts on his mind, Arthur tried to busy his mind with thoughts of Halloween décor as he began to wave his staff as he channeled magic into the jade stones, the jades glowing as more and more magic entered their being. As Arthur did this, the nation took note to keep his use of magic to a minimum lest he face a grieving consequence. Looking into some of the boxes, Arthur rummaged around and pulled out an age-riddled box. Upon opening the box, there lie tiny stone creatures which looked like skeletons of mangy, rabid animals, and each of the strange animals were sitting as if they were begging. Along their bodies were strange engravings and inside the box was some black chalk.

Grabbing the chalk, Arthur knelt down and began to draw on the floor a summoning circle and then scribble in Ænglisc around the circle. Chanting softly, Arthur set the stone pieces into the circle and continued to chanting until the chalk cackled and a bright flash appeared and the little stone creatures now stood at knee-height and as the moved around, their joints cracked and rattled as they moved around and all the creatures looked towards Arthur as they waited for further commands.

Arthur pointed towards the boxes, "_Go help the others but putting up those decorations. When you're done, return to me. Understand?"_

The little minions looked at each other and clacked their teeth and nodded, knuckle-walking over to the boxes and climbing into the boxes and helping the other nations grab items and even putting up ornaments. When Arthur turned around, Arthur saw that Dumbledore and his company were still there, although it seemed that Filch had taken his leave. Arthur smiled sheepishly.

"Those are a few of my stone minions, they're harmless— to an extent at least— so there's nothing to worry about." Arthur said as he waved away the stares. He however grimaced from the sudden stab he felt in his hand. Glancing at his palm, a circle was beginning to embed itself into his hand causing a searing pain, but it only lasted a few seconds. Well, he guessed that was a sign to put a stop of his use of magic— for the while at least.

When he looked around, Arthur smiled as Matthew decorated the walls with life-like cobwebs. Francis was busy creating illusions of rats, spiders, and wolves skirting across the walls and halls, and spying around the corners and props of the Grand Hall. Aurel was using the material from the boxes to create a haunted look of a grave yard with remains of fallen warriors. Helmets, shields, and swords scattered the floors and black rope hung down from the high heavens as if mocking the gallows. White cloth covered tables and chairs and an illusion was casted to make the Grand Hall graced with dust as it was abandoned.

And with Dumbledore's own decorations, pumpkins filled with candy floated around alongside with candles, and there was a cloud of bats fluttering about the ceiling, weaving through long bright orange streamers the swayed and curled. Admiring the outcome of much of the decorations up so far, Arthur felt quite happy for himself (as well as thankful for the help provided to him) from the outcome of the Grand Hall's soon-to-be Halloween celebration party.

"Oh Arthur, seems like you have a few skeletons hanging around!" Francis joked as he waved around the skeleton towards Arthur. Arthur smirked and waved his staff towards the box of skeletons.

The skeleton in Francis' hand shuddered a bit before turning its head and "looking" at Francis and waving a hand in front of his face. Francis jump and released the skeleton with a cry, Matthew turning towards the Frenchmen in concern before shaking his head. The skeletons inside the box then began to crawl out of the box, falling onto the floor before picking themselves out and limping towards Arthur.

"_Scatter yourselves around the castle and play dead."_ Arthur ordered as the skeletons did just that. This wouldn't seem too usual as charmed skeletons weren't something unheard of. "A little mischief with some skeletons may excite the children, they're completely harmless, so no harm should come to the children."

"I trust you Professor Kirkland," Dumbledore, turning towards McGonagall and Snape as Arthur left over to talk with Aurel.

**XV**

Watching Kirkland with his "colleagues", Snape was the first to speak his mind. "How can you trust this man? He is too suspicious and somehow these 'colleagues' of his snuck into Hogwarts despite all incantations that protect Hogwarts from intruders! How could they have possibly entered the grounds, bypassing the Dementors and us?" Snape hissed under his breath as he watched Kirkland and his friends.

"And not to take any sides, but while we were at Hogsmeade, there were these posters all around." McGonagall said as she pulled out one of Kirkland's missing person's poster from her person.

Dumbledore raised a brow and Snape took the poster away from McGonagall. "Charged with disorderly conduct, open container, DUI, trespassing, vandalism?" Snape read aloud as he looked over the poster. "Dumbledore, how can you trust this man if he has a criminal record in the Muggle world? If he's a danger to the Muggles, then isn't he a danger to us as well? How much do you know of this man anyway?" Snape pressed, the poster crumpling from his grip.

Dumbledore's eyes shifted between Snape and McGonagall before he sighed and nodded. "Severus, Minerva, let me tell you something about Sir Kirkland. He is not what he seems, I'm sure you can tell that." Dumbledore started as he watched said man working alongside his friends and minions. "I was telling the truth when I said that Sir Kirkland hasn't changed a bit since the last I meet him— physically at least. Well, I wouldn't say that really, he was in very poor shape the last I remember him, but usually he's like the man you see before you."

Snape and McGonagall shared a look. To them, Dumbledore started talking nonsense again. As eccentric as Dumbledore was, they were starting to doubt the man's credibility as they were starting to grow concern over the children's safety as well as their own for a 'friend' of Dumbledore of whom they've never heard of before. And frankly, Kirkland filled the bill of being a threat to their safety.

"And when was that?" McGonagall asked as she raised a brow. "The last time you saw of Mr. Kirkland?"

Humming, Dumbledore tilted his head up and entwined his fingers together. "Hmm… I'd say that was… Fifty years ago? Give or take." Dumbledore said as calmly as possible.

McGonagall's eyes widen in shock and she looked back at Kirkland as she tried to make sense of what Dumbledore had just said. "No that couldn't possibly be!" McGonagall said in aghast. "Even the most powerful wizard can't stop himself, or rather his body, from _aging_, and yet Kirkland looks no older than _twenty!"_

Snape turned to Dumbledore. "What you say can't possibly be true. You couldn't have known the man from fifty years ago!"

Dumbledore shook his head. "Oh but what I say is the truth, however I met Kirkland… Hmm… About forty, forty-four years before that? I remember that I met him in my time to Cairo, I met him there after I got my Gold Medal for Ground-Breaking Contribution. He shook my hand and told me he was never prouder to have me as a British Youth Representative to the Wizengamot. He's a bit of a flatterer really." Dumbledore as he chuckled from his old memories.

"Then his flattery has done nothing but cloud your judgment." Snape uttered as he flashed a glare at Kirkland. "If what you say is true, than just how has he managed a feat?"

"Arthur is a trustable man. How he's lived for so long without aging, I cannot say. But from the times I've met him, he is a man wiser than I when _he_ reminisces of the past. He will be a good influence towards the children, he knows much more about magic than anyone else in this building— well, along with his friends." Dumbledore said as he looked at Snape. "Now, if you let me, I will go talk to Professor Kirkland about his progress with his plans."

McGonagall looked between Snape and Dumbledore and sighed from the release of tension. "Severus, if Dumbledore trusts Professor Kirkland, we should at least give him a chance. It would be unfair to judge him if we do not know his life story."

"Speak for yourself Minerva. I still find myself untrusting towards the man, if we could call him that."

McGonagall gave Snape a sorry look.

**XV**

"Good afternoon Professor Kirkland, Mr. Popa." Dumbledore said as he walked up toward Arthur, Aurel at his side. Aurel smiled and tipped his head as if to tip a hat to the Hogwarts headmaster. "Ah, that is a lovely staff you have there, Professor." Dumbledore chimed as he looked at the old staff in the English nation's hands.

Arthur looked down at the staff in his hands and flushed lightly. "Thank you. Back before wands became popular and handy, my brothers had this staff made for me when I became a druid." Arthur said as he looked at his staff.

"A druid you say?"

"Yes, before I learned Romanized magic, I knew Celtic magic thanks to my brothers and whatnot." Arthur said as he twirled the staff in his hand.

"Oi, oi, Arthur. You think this good enough? Or should I add something more?"

Arthur hummed as he watched and studied the floating lights. "Hmm… Aurel, can you make the colours red, orange, yellow, and white? — Yes, that's perfect." Arthur said as Aurel began to do as he asked for. As Arthur made small commentaries to Aurel's magic orbs, Dumbledore watched them converse with a small smile on his lips.

"That's quite interesting…" Dumbledore murmured as he thought over what Arthur had said as he watched Aurel creating orbs of glowing light to pulse around eerily as they floated around.

"Um…Sorry to interrupt, but Arthur, what are these?" Matthew asked as he held up a fairly large jar was what looked like black dust— shaking black dust. Arthur paid him no heed and the soft-spoken man tried to catch his attention yet again. "Ah… Arthur… The jar. I know that you're busy but I'm not sure what to do w—"

"Ah, Professor Kirkland," Dumbledore interrupted once he saw Matthew having trouble gaining said man's attention.

"Hmm?" Arthur hummed as he turned around to looked at Dumbledore. "What is it— oh! Matthew!" Upon seeing the jar in Matthew's hand. Inspecting the jar, Arthur scratched under his jaw before snapping his fingers. "Ah! Those are soot sprites— at least from what Kiku said. I just use them as decorations and they're quite harmless. A little shy, but they can take orders so as long as you give them something to eat or they'll run away and it's hard to recollect them…" Arthur sighed as he crossed his arms. "Regardless, go back to the box from where you got them and search for a smaller jar that's filled with little colored sweets, bribe them with that and they'll do as you say." Arthur advised.

Dumbledore smiled and turned to Matthew. "I'll help you with that; it seems your hands are quite full." Dumbledore offered as he walked over to the near-empty boxes with Matthew. Looking through the boxes, Dumbledore saw extra unused bundles of cloth, candles, ornaments, and eventually the jar Arthur had talked about. Grabbing it, Dumbledore looked at it and chuckled. This looked like hundreds-and-thousands*.

Opening the jar, Dumbledore turned to Matthew. "Shall we Matthew?" He asked as he gestured to the jar in Matthew's hands. Matthew glanced at the jar than Kumajiro and nodded.

"Alright," Matthew said before turning his head unsurely as he opened up the jar.

The moment he opened up the jar, Matthew jumped when all the soot sprites began to seeming pour out of the jar and crawling all over his arm and body, a few falling down wispily as the soot sprite ran out toward their freedom. Their movements were light, skittish, and somewhat ticklish, but nonetheless, Matthew couldn't help but shudder because it felt like dozens of tiny, furry, spiders were crawling down his body.

When all the soot sprites gathered on the floor, they all bunched together until they piled into a small mound and Matthew and Dumbledore's feet. Kumajiro had wedged himself between Matthew's legs and inspected the strange fuzzy black sprites in curiosity.

Matthew chuckled as a few of the sprites were jumping towards the jar of hundreds-and-thousands. "I guess we should feed them now?" Matthew said as he watched the tower of soot sprite lean and wiggle from the ambitious soot sprite. Even if they were a bit odd, they were somewhat cute— in a sense.

"I guess it does," Dumbledore said as he dipped his hand into the jar and grabbed a handful of the colorful sweets.

As the treats tumbled down from Dumbledore's palm, the soot sprites went crazy and both the wizard and visiting covert nation could hear little squeals of delight as the sprites raced to collect the most of the strand, circle, and star shape sugar treats. Once the soot sprites had their due, Dumbledore shared a look with Matthew, a smile on both their faces.

"Alright— um— you guys," Matthew started awkwardly. "Go about the room and halls and just hang about the walls and stuff. Don't hurt anyone though, just amuse them, okay?" Matthew finished as he looked at the soot sprite.

Both he and Dumbledore were surprised when the soot sprites began to what looked like nodding and the piled of soot sprites dispersed and while some sprites crawls along the floors, others floated in the air like jellyfish in water.

_"Why're they so dirty?"_ Kumajiro asked as he got up on his hind legs and now stood up at Matthew's waist. He was trying to grab some of the flying soot sprites, but when he did, they'd disappear in a cloud of soot, and then pop back to life to resume Matthew's orders.

_"Oh don't do that Kuma, you'll get dirty. They're soot sprites, so they're made from soot. You know, ash from fire wood."_ Matthew said as he bent down towards Kumajiro's height and frowning at Kumajiro's now-dirtied paws. Kumajiro lifted up one of his giant paws and pressed the soft of his paw against Matthew's cheek, causing the Canadian to pull back and cough from the soot.

_"There, now you're dirty too!"_ Kumajiro stated as he went back on all fours.

Matthew turned to look at Kumajiro and huffed at his bear. But a moment or two from staring at Kumajiro, Matthew sighed and ruffled the polar bear's head. Getting up, Matthew smiled at Dumbledore.

"Thank you for helping me."

"Not at all. Say, how would you like to stay for the night? Although you're not a student or teacher at Hogwarts, you did help out with the preparations for the feast and party. I would be unfair for you to miss out on what you helpt create." Dumbledore said as he put aside the jar of hundreds-and-thousands.

Matthew blinked in surprise and sent a warm smile to Dumbledore. "Oh no, I couldn't possibly impose on you. It would seem rude; the children should be the ones to enjoy the festivities, not me." Matthew said as he politely declined the offer.

"No, no. I insist. You wouldn't be imposing at all so don't worry." Dumbledore said.

Matthew scratched the back of his neck and chuckled nervously. "Well, if you insist that it's not a problem. But I'll have to talk with Francis. He and I made some plans tonight— and I'll have to ask if he's fine with me staying." Matthew said as he averted his eyes. "But knowing him, he'll probably want to tag along…"

Dumbledore smiled. "Wonderful! The more the merrier!" He exclaimed as if Matthew made his decision final.

When Dumbledore looked at Arthur, said Englishman was calling everyone to finish up what they were doing.

"Alright everyone, that should be enough." Arthur called out as he gathered everyone's attention. "Thank you all for the favour, I'm in your debt— and by that I mean everybody but Francis' debt."

Francis scoffed and wrinkled his nose. "And you say it like that's a bad thing."

"Generally it is. I know I would want to be in your debt." Aurel laughed as he high-fived Lukas. "Looks like we can go home now, would you like to get a snack before we go back? Well, not here of course…" Aurel chatted light-hearted with Lukas as they left the Grand Hall and soon disappeared. It was noted by the Hogwarts staff that the two did not take the usual exit of Hogwarts…

**XVI**

With Lukas and Aurel now gone, Arthur was now shifting through with what was left in the boxes so he could organize all left over materials inside one box. With everything compactly packed, Arthur waved his staff over to them and shrunk the items, pocking the items and nearly screaming in surprise when Matthew seemed to have popped out of nowhere at his side. Why was he still here!?

"Matthew! You—! Eh?" Arthur raised a brow as he saw Matthew's face covered with some black smudge. Frowning, Arthur peered back into his box and tore off a piece of plum purple curtains. Licking a bit of the cloth, Arthur grabbed Matthew by the chin and began to wash Matthew's face. "What is this all over your face?" Arthur huffed as he took hold of Matthew's jaw to clean up the black smudge on Matthew's cheek.

Matthew tried to squirm away from Arthur's hold and his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "N-No Arthur. It's okay, it's— it's just soot. You— You don't have to do this." Matthew insisted as he fidgeted from Arthur and the cloth.

"Stop fidgeting. I can't clean this bloody mess off with you moving about like that." Arthur huffed as his paternal instincts kicked in. He wouldn't allow Matthew to walk around with soot on his face! And now that he thought about it. "Matthew! Why are you covered in soot?"

"It was the soot sprites! They crawled over me!"

"And why did you let them do that!"

"I was only letting them out of the jar!"

"Well couldn't you have done it a bit cleaner?"

"Arthur! I would have needed to change anyway! I was going to get dressed up for Halloween and—"

"Arthur! Quit babying him! He can take care of himself you know. He does not need you to fret over his every need." Francis said as he entered through the hall with Toris in tow. Pressing his hand in a modest gesture against his chest, Francis smirked at the mother hen of an Englishman and the too-polite Canadian. "Trust me, I know _all_ of Matthieu's needs, and he doesn't— need— you." Francis purred almost sultrily.

Matthew's face heated up and both he and Arthur were in tune to scold the Frenchman with a firm (and shocked on behalf of Matthew) shout, "Francis!"

Francis laughed and waltzed over to the two and he patted Arthur on the cheek in a smug manner. "Oh calm down. I merely kid, no?" He laughed as he stepped away and turned on his heel. "Now, I presume we are done?"

Arthur glared at Francis and sighed, taking the cloth away from Matthew's face. "Yes, you're done." Arthur said as he clenched his jaws. "Thank you for helping out." Arthur spat out as he glared at the Frenchman. Francis smiled and clapped his hands.

_« Oh ! C'est bien ! — Et il n'y a pas de quoi. Matthieu, on y va. »_* Francis said as he turned to Matthew and ignoring Arthur's annoyed glares.

"Actually, Dumbledore invited us to stay since we helpt out with the decorations." Matthew said as he gestured to Dumbledore. Arthur and Francis raised their brows in surprise and looked at the wizard in question.

_« Quoi ? »*_

"Speak English you pillock." Arthur hissed as he flared his teeth at Francis.

Francis huffed and crossed his arms. "I do not _have_ to if _I_ do not _wish_ to."* He argued back in an almost childish manner.

"Francis, enough— Arthur, we were glad to help, and is it okay if we stay?" Matthew asked as he held a finger up to Francis to keep him from saying anything else to provoke or anger the Englishman. They were such kids at times it was ridiculous.

"Matthew speaks the truth. You're welcome to stay if you'd like." Dumbledore said as he looked at all of the covert nations.

"If Matthieu's going to stay, then I'll be more than happy to stay!" Francis chimed happily as he clapped his hands.

Arthur's eyes widen and he looked at Dumbledore desperately. "Dumbledore, I speak from experience, but this is a bad idea."

Dumbledore cocked his head. "And why is that?"

"It's not that I don't trust Matthew, it's that I don't trust the frog over there. He's a pervert and will touch anything that walks on two legs." Arthur said sternly before looking down at Kumajiro. "Maybe even four."*

"Ey! I heard that!" Francis huffed as he sent Arthur a glare. Had Matthew not stepped in front of him, he was sure to tackle Arthur.

"You were meant to." Arthur deadpanned as he kept his gaze at Dumbledore and ignoring the frown Matthew sent him.

"Oi, but I will not be touching anyone! I do not touch children!— or polar bears!" Francis huffed as he defended his honour, but he calmed down with a sultry purr. "Besides, I have Matthieu. Why would I want to touch anyone else?"

"Francis," Matthew started, unamused with Francis sense of humour.

_« Désolé. __»*_

Matthew sighed and turned his attention back to Arthur. "So, can we stay? I promise that I'll keep Francis in line while we're here. Is that alright?"

Arthur thought for a moment and sighed through his nose. "Alright, but you better have that frog on a leash. If I even hear that he is groping a wall, he will be hearing from both my fist, understand?"

Matthew smiled weakly at Arthur. "Yes, I'm sure Francis will understand."

"I am still in this room! Do not act like I cannot hear you!" Francis huffed as he through his hands in the air in irritation. Matthew placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a sympathetic look.

"I'm sorry, but I have to say something so Arthur would let you stay." Matthew said before looking at Francis with a deadpanned look. "And I'm sorry, but I do agree with Arthur. You tied up my brother and didn't tell me where he was for nearly _two_ _months_."

Francis chuckled dryly. "Ah… You're still mad about that?"

"It's rude to kidnap my brother and send him overseas in nothing. Frankly it bothers me that you didn't even think to tell me. I don't like to be the last person to find out where my brother is."

At that, Francis sighed and nodded. "Alright, alright. Next time I will tell you if I plan to tie up your brother again."

"Thank you because then I at least know he'll be okay." And with that, Matthew waved at Dumbledore and smiled warmly. "We'll be back shortly; Francis and I would like to get ready if you do not mind."

_« Matthieu, je sais que vous êtes en colère contre moi, mais je peux vous faire sentir mieux.__»*_ The Frenchman cooed into the Canadian's ear, although that had earned him an elbow to the stomach.

_« Ah ! Tais-toi ! Tais-toi ! __»*_

_« Euh… Comme si ils comprennent… __»* _Francis grumbled as he rubbed his stomach sorely as both he and Matthew began to walk away although shortly disappearing the moment they turned the corner.

As soon as all the Nations left, Arthur messaged his temples. "Oh god I hope Matthew can keep up to his words. That stupid French wanker…"

Dumbledore grinned and concealed a laugh. "Well, at least he's a lively person."

"Too lively if you ask me. Doesn't he realize no one takes him seriously?"

"Well, if it doesn't bother him, I don't think it's anything to fret about. Now, don't you have something to get ready for?" Dumbledore asked as he perked a brow. Arthur cocked his head.

"What do you— oh! My costume!" He exclaimed as he ran towards the hall before turning back. "Ah, well, I best be going, thank you for letting me do this Albus."

"Not at all, it's the least I can do. And besides, this sounds like a wonderful festivity, so I see no wrong with it." Dumbledore exclaimed with a wave of his hand. "If that's all, I'd better get go check on the house elves and make sure everything is alright."

"Ta," Arthur said as he headed towards his room. With the children primping in their dorms, Arthur still had time to get ready, although he was a little anxious with Francis deciding to stay for the party. He just hoped Matthew could at least make sure what Francis wore was school appropriate. He didn't need any other reasons for anyone to question his persona…

**i**

**water and marshmallows*— Drinking water helps hydrate the body, as alcohol is a dehydrate, and eating three marshmallows helps the hungover person recover quickly from a hung-over. I don't know the magical properties of marshmallows though.**

**jumped*— Nation jargon for "country jump"**

**Gene* — Eugene Francis "Gene" Kranz; head of NASA from 1960-1994.**

**She said it was because she wasn't married* — Native American woman have been known to braid their hair as a sign to show that they were married and it was a part of their tradition, however this may change from tribe to tribe.**

**pen-knife* — another term for pocket knife! It is **_**not**_** a spy weapon of a knife cleverly disguised as a pen (that's what I thought when I first heard the term "pen-knife"… It's kind of disappointing really. No, it's really disappointing actually.).**

**Wendigos* — A Native American (Algonquian) demonic creature deriving from those who indulged in eating human flesh, often either from possession or manifesting from a human spirit that has participated in eating human flesh.**

**Apparating While Obnoxiously Lashed* — Also known as AWOL; it is a misdemeanor set by the Ministry of Magic to keep all licensed (and unlicensed) apparators from apparating while under the influence of any sort of inebriating substance to prevent any cases of splinching. **

**Lashed* — British slang for "very inebriated"**

**Transfoamation* — foam that randomly transforms the user and or object into anything in the world. It is often used for practical jokes or in Transfiguration classes. WARNING: Do not consume Transfoamation even if it takes the form of food.**

**Dancing Lizards* — A miscellaneous item in which lizards dance.**

**Wild Witty Confetti*— a confetti cannon that cracks jokes.**

**Sour Punch Limes*— a puny combination of "sour punch" and "punch line"; this lime-shaped treat has a joke printed on it, and when it's eaten, the consumer endures a sour punch taste, and the punch line is now imprinted in their tongue with edible ink.**

**hundreds-and-thousands* — British term for sugar strands (another Brit term), sprinkles, sparkles, jimmies, nonpareil, confetti, whatever you want to call them. Hundreds-and-thousands is said to be the most often use word (or phrase) to describe sprinkles (in the UK).**

**« and »: This is part of French punctuation-grammar rules as quotation marks ("") don't exist in French.**

**Spaces: the spaces between the words and "!", "?", "«", and "»" are necessary (same with the semi-colon) in French. The spaces aren't necessary with commas and periods— and the Oxford comma doesn't exist in French either.**

_**Oh ! C'est bien !**_*** — Oh! That's good!**

_**Et il n'y a pas de quoi**_*** — And you're welcome; literal meaning to **_**il n'y a pas de quoi**_** is "there is no what"**

_**Matthieu, on y va**_*** — Matthew, let's go; literal meaning of **_**on y va**_** is "we're going [there]" and there are other ways to use**_** on y va**_**, depending on the context of course.**

_**Quoi ?***_** — What?**

**I do not **_**have**_** to if **_**I**_** do not **_**wish**_** to.* — You're prolly wondering why I asterisked this, but France is said to be so in love with himself, he refuses to learn another language, especially English. So in here, although he'll know English, he'll refuse to speak it out of stubbornness.**

"**It's not that I don't trust Matthew… Maybe even four."* — France is said to love aka is attracted to everything beautiful and wishes give his love to all that is beautiful, be it man, woman, or maybe even non-human beings… (T3T) **_**Anywho**_**, England is hinting that and France is taking offense because it was hinted, but not necessarily confirmed by Himaruya.**

_**Désolé**_*** — [I'm] Sorry**

_**Matthieu, je sais que vous êtes en colère contre moi, mais je peux vous faire sentir mieux* **_**— Matthew, I know that you are angry with me, but I can make you feel better**

_**Ah ! Tais-toi ! Tais-toi !* **_**— Ah! Shut up! Shut up!**

_**Euh… Comme si ils comprennent**_*** — Uh… As if they understand…**

**ii**

**Alfred's flash backs were during the early 17****th**** Century, or 1600s. Frankly, from what I observed, a lot of Hetalians (not all), think America's colonial days were all fluffy and adorable with "England pampering his little brother/son", though in fact England was almost going to stop sending supplies and people to the Americas because everyone kept dying and or eating each other— and then Virginia "found" (an English citizen smuggled tobacco overseas) and then America was like "We can finally make more money!" (But King George III was like "This stuff is bitter and I'm concerned about the health of my citizens." And America was like "Fuck that. We can make money by trading with other countries!") I could be wrong, but that's what I learned. u.u**

**iii**

**I have to thank alexdemyx for their "Sorting" fic (if you could call it that). It features all of the nations (or most of them) and what house they would belong to and what want they would have. Uwu That credit may go unnoticed because IDK if they've read this story, but crediting people is important so nobody call foul. :/**

**And yes, the bit with the soot sprites was inspired from Studio Ghibli's **_**Spirited Away**_** because I couldn't resist the reference. ^w^ And I'm sad because Hayao Miyazaki retired, but I'm grateful that he provided us great movies. ^u^**

**As for the use of French, I can research for hours about French grammar and whatnot, but I may not be entirely correct, so if you see a mistake tell me!**

**(Honestly, I like what the French call the punctuation symbols (that exist in English), because my most favourite is **_**les points de suspension**_**, or the ellipses […].)**

**iv**

**Speaking about mistakes, critiques are welcomed!**

**Do **_**not**_** be afraid to critique me! I am the most chillax person when it comes to critiques! I will not get defensive or angry over something like "you have typos" or whatever.**

**You see a flaw in context (grammar or story wise)? Tell me and I will fix!**  
><strong>You see some [major] OOCness? Tell me and I will do my best to portray them and their personality!<strong>

**Also, as for a critique, **_**critics give advice, flamers don't**_**. Although I don't expect to see any flamers, you are allowed to critique my story!, no need to ask or be afraid to! :D**

**You don't need to review (although that is welcomed too), but if you want to critique, critique.**

**Also, questions are allowed! ^7^**

**v**

**So, wow. I took forever to update this, eh? Oh the joys of purposeful procrastination and school.**

**But fucking shit man. You guys prolly didn't think I was ever going to update since the last time I update this was a year ago (plus extra) and every now and then I got people favouriting it and following this story and leaving kind reviews (thank you for the reviews, I really needed that. It really boosted up my morale for this story.) **

**But like always, I'm still not happy with this chapter. OTL Regardless, to the next bitch of a chapter! /unf kill me now.  
><strong>

**—DeiDeiArtistic**

**P.S. My sister has been calling me a "fake HP fan" for my HetaPotter fic because I haven't read past the 3****rd**** book and I haven't even watched all the movies (because ABC Family doesn't do fucking chronological order of the movies).  
><strong>

**P.P.S. Don't have a Tumblr and be the person to have not yet read anything past the 3****rd**** book. Too many people don't tag spoilers so a lot is ruined for you m'kay QAQ**


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